Recollection
by 217
Summary: A look into Negan's life based on the comics and the current backstory comic. Negan / OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Before you go any further, there are massive spoilers from the comic, including this description. Recently, Kirkman started writing the backstory for Negan and I just fell in love with Negan even more. If that's possible. This fic will take place at the start of that comic, going forward through the All Out War arc. Slightly AU since he hasn't finished the backstory, and completely AU after he escapes jail. If you've read my other fics, you know the drill. One line signifies a few days or weeks have passed. Three dotted lines is for a few hours passing. Told from Negan's POV. Going to leave this as a T rating right now, but that will change. Updates on this are going to be slow because I'm still working on Stigmatic. Pictures of the OC's can be found on my profile.**

* * *

Alright, so I'll be honest. I never thought Rick was actually fucking serious about this jail fuckery. I curl my fingers around the metal and lower my head. "Shit." I have got to find something to do to occupy my time or I'm going to drive myself insane. Damn, don't I get a conjugal visit or something? I don't regret what I fucking did. The only thing I regret is putting a weasel like Dwight as my top Lieutenant. "I know you're on the steps, kid."

Carl reveals himself, yet stays at the foot of them.

"Whatever, I ain't got nothing but time."

"How are you still alive? I watched him slit your throat."

"What can I say? I'm one tough motherfucker to kill."

"I can remedy that, ya know?"

"Ooo, I'm pissing my panties."

"You should be."

"Lighten up, kid. Shit."

"Don't do anything stupid," he warns me before leaving.

Great.

* * *

I use my fork to itch some of the spots in my beard.

Carl narrows his eye. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Pulling on my pud. The fuck does it look like I'm doing?"

"Gross."

I break one of the plastic prongs off and sigh.

"Who was Lucille?"

"No one."

"Bullshit."

"Why would I tell you about Lucille?"

"You've got nothing but time."

"Well fucking played, but I'm thinking somewhere along the lines of no fucking way and go fuck your-fucking-self.

"Fine. I'm outta here."

* * *

Carl keeps after me about Lucille for the next few months.

I feel like a damn record player. "No," I shout up at him when the door opens.

He slams it shut.

I find his persistence truly fucking annoying.

* * *

"You gonna tell me about Lucille today?"

"You know I'm not."

"Is she even a real person?"

"Kid, I'm beginning to think you've got a lapse in your cognitive process. You sure that bullet ain't still stuck in there?"

"Why is it such a big secret?

"Because it's no one's goddamn business."

"Is Lucille and Grey the same person?"

"How in the… how do you know about Grey?"

He points to the small window above my cell. "Anyone outside it can hear what you're saying."

I fold my arms, becoming somewhat embarrassed. I thought that fucking thing was for show.

"Why do you talk to Grey when you're by yourself?"

"It makes me feel better."

"Shit," Carl panics, running up the steps when the door upstairs opens.

* * *

I woke up with the worst back pain imaginable. She always knew what to do to make it subside.

 _Grey, will you do that thing again?_

 _Deep breath._

I try and replicate it, but end up face first on the floor. "Ow, fuck."

Carl starts to laugh.

I expel a breath as I slither towards my cot.

"So.. Lucille?"

"No!"

He drums one of the legs on the metal chair.

"Fine. I'll answer one question a day."

"Is Lucille a real person?"

"Yes."

"Was she your wife?"

"Kid, do you fucking know English? I said one."

"This is so stupid. Either tell me or don't."

"You're the one that wants to know."

He rolls his eye. "Fine, I'll see you tomorrow."

My forehead puckers in frustration. "Yeah. She was my wife."

He returns to his chair, slinging one leg over the other.

"We got married when I was 29. Moved to this small town outside of Baltimore. I coached High School baseball there."

"I'd drop out of school if you were my teacher."

"Fuck you, I'll have you know I was pretty fucking well liked."

"Whatever you say."

"Do you wanna hear the story or fucking not?"

"Sorry."

"It was three years before the outbreak…"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Even though these next few chapters are going to be Negan recalling his past to Carl, they're still going to be told in first person. I do what I want.**

* * *

"Will you please fix the garbage disposal? It's doing that thingy again."

Shit! I stuff the porno magazine back down between the cushion and arm of my chair. "Y- yeah," I clear my throat, rising off the chair. Before she can head back inside, I grab her wrist, scooting her against the wall. "Wanna mess around-"

"Negan, stop." She shoves my wrists away. "I'm not in the mood."

"You haven't been in the mood for-"

The door slams shut.

"Months," I sigh. I turn my attention to the house directly across the street when the worn breaks of a moving truck screech as it pulls up. It's about time. I hit the garage door button before I step inside the house. "Hey, they sold that house across the street."

"It's about time. It only depreciates the value of ours."

I let out a breathed laugh. "Why does the value of our house matter? Thought you were happy here."

"I hate it here. I want to move to Baltimore."

"I don't want to live in the city, Lulu. We had this conversation."

"I don't have time to argue with you! Will you just fix the damn garbage disposal?"

Lucille wasn't always a bitch. We used to have fun together. There was a time when we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Now the only time she touches me is when I'm being slapped, or shoved away. I don't really know what happened. If anything, I look better now than when we got together. I work out several times a week, on top of the training at the school. Maybe she really does resent me for keeping us in this small town. The two of us aren't the most honest with each other. I caught her claiming to do volunteer work at the hospital but instead she had been sneaking off to see an old boyfriend. I never really asked if she did anything with him. I guess because I didn't want to know. She found my wedding ring in my pants pocket one time when she was doing laundry. Asked what it was doing there. I kinda slipped it off, then forgot about it during an away game. I didn't fuck the woman, but I know Lucille doesn't believe me. She doesn't have a reason to. There's no telling how many women I've slept with at the away games. Fidelity isn't really our strong suit, but it doesn't mean that I don't love the fuck out of this woman. "There." I flip the switch to the godawful fucking noise. Or not.

"When you're done, do the dishes."

When did I become such a domesticated vagina?

* * *

"Staff meeting."

Boring. Why do the coaches have to go to this shit? At least I can use the time to go over plays in my head. I've learned to zone out while looking like I'm paying attention. It ends after forty-five grueling minutes. "Sprints," I tell the players.

Unanimous groans and moans expel from them.

"Keep it up, we'll run the entire practice."

My pitcher trips and falls flat on his face.

I roll my eyes so fucking hard. "How about you pick your fucking feet up?"

"It hurts, oh god!"

"Eh, don't be a pussy. Just rub some dirt in it." I smack his elbow.

"Ow! I think it's broken."

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Get off my field and go see the nurse."

...

What in the fuck is taking so goddamn long? He's probably milking that shit. I have some of the laziest players. It's a wonder how we're state champions the last few years in a row. Before I can open my mouth and yell at the kid, I turn my attention over by the file cabinet and the woman rummaging in it. Fucking fuck me. I quickly remove my wedding ring, stuffing it in my back pocket. My eyes always travel to the same few places on a woman. Tits. Eh, could be bigger. Face. Flawless. Hair. I'd love to wrap that red hair around my fist. Ring finger. I scoff at the ridiculous piece of jewelry. What a damn fucking shame.

"Oh," she jumps, started.

My eyes shift side to side. "Where's the sea hag?"

Her smile diminishes. "Who?"

"Wait, are you the new nurse?" Jesus, I forgot. The other one croaked.

She nods.

Hellooooooo, nurse. Maybe if I paid attention in the meetings I'd know shit like this. Christ, how did I miss an ass like that? "I think I'm going to have a lot more injured players." Including myself. Shit, these thin gray baseball pants aren't helping matters. I lower my hat in front of my dick.

"You are.." her slate eyes trail upward, "built like a brick shithouse."

"What?"

"Uh, you're really.. large. Buff."

I flash her a mouthful of teeth. "I'm only 6 foot 7... and a half." Her accent is fucking hot. "So, what's England like?"

"I wouldn't know. I've... never been." She seems a bit apprehensive at first, then relaxes. "I'm from Australia, not England."

I'm a fucking idiot. "I'll put another shrimp on the barbie then," I impersonate, but I just end up sounding like a leprechaun.

"We don't call it a shrimp in Australia. We call it a prawn."

"Yeah, I'm going to stop putting my foot in my mouth now."

"Well, at least you're better to look at than you are to converse with," she laughs.

No shit? I embellish my height a little more.

"Your pitcher will be fine. He's been," she scoots closer, "crying," she whispers.

"What a pus- ow," I grunt when she pinches my side. "Heh."

"You may return now," she tells him.

"Alright," he mutters.

"You're about fifty laps behind the others, so I'd hustle."

"What, are you serious? Ugh, this sucks." He trudges from the infirmary.

I saunter over to her desk, leaning against it with one ankle crossed over the other.

She pays me no mind while she continues to fill out his chart.

"So-"

"Oh, you're still here?"

She's kinda jumpy. This is the second time I've startled her. "I'm Negan, or Coach Negan." I point with my thumb to my Devil's jersey.

Her eyes read the text as if she doesn't believe me before they focus back on her paperwork. "Grey."

Wait, that's her name? Guess it's fitting because of her eyes.

"I don't... feel..." One of the freshman brats pukes all over the floor.

Fucking gross.

"Looks like I've got heaps of work."

"Yeah, uh. Nice to meet," I bump into the door frame on the way out, "you."

...

I happen to catch Grey on the way out. Okay, maybe I waited for her.

She keeps her head down when she walks as she hustles to her car.

Goddamn, she's driving a fucking Bentley? Guess her husband makes the money. I don't even know what the fuck I'm doing. She obviously wasn't interested in me in the infirmary. Just because she said I'm attractive doesn't mean shit. I grab one of my outfielders by the back of his shirt. "Say goodnight," I tell him.

"B- Bye," he stammers at the girls.

"Keep it in your pants until after my perfect season."

"Bye, Coach Negan," the girls giggle.

"You girls get home." I steer my player to the parking lot. "You go the other way."

"Alright, later Coach."

Perhaps, I should take my own advice. Waiting for Grey like some stalker. I pull my boots out of my bag, switching them out. This is my absolute favorite part of the day. Driving home on my bike. I usually circle twice around my block before I park, but there's a squad car in the driveway. "Something wrong?" I ask worrisome.

The Sheriff sits comfortably on my couch.

"This is the new Sheriff. He lives across the street," Lucille tells me.

"Blythe."

That's who moved in.

"Negan."

Blythe rises to his feet.

Right away I can tell I'm going to have issues with this prick.

He rests his hands on the sides of his belt, close to his gun, as he puffs his chest out. "You're the baseball coach."

Despite my size, I can tell he's not intimidated by me, and I'm starting to wonder if this town might have a crooked cop. "Yeah. Last couple of years." Baseball is everything to this town. It's kind of hard not to know who I am.

"Are you sure I can't get you more coffee?" Lucille doesn't often blush, but it actually a little pathetic to watch.

"No, I'll be on my way." The corner of his lip curls upward as he gives her a wink.

My eyes shift suspicious as fuck between the two of them. That's my wife, you cocksucker.

"See you at the next home game, Ned."

"It's Negan."

"Right," he snickers, slipping on his Aviators.

Back at you, you fucking fuckwit.

Lucille closes the door behind him, then shoots me a glare. "Why are you being so fucking rude?!"

"I didn't even say a fucking word!"

"It's Negan," she mocks me.

"He fucking called me Ned!"

"He's a busy man."

"Yeah, I'm sure he's **real** fucking busy, but had time to stop here and have coffee."

"Working late again?" She holds my left hand up, then shoves it to the side disgusted.

Shit. My ring. It's in my pants in my office. I grab her by the wrist. "I wouldn't be jealous of him if I didn't care about you." I bring her closer.

She runs her finger down the front of my shirt.

I lean in to give her a kiss, but she moves back some.

"Dinner's in the fridge."

By dinner she means make myself a sandwich.

She flings her hand away from me, stomping up the steps.

At least there's a blanket on the couch already.

* * *

I didn't sleep all that well, and my back is all fucked up from the couch. Guess breakfast is two ibuprofen.

"You never came to bed last night."

I grip the kitchen sink between my fingers, looking over my shoulder. "I don't know what you want from-"

Lucille stands in only a pair of heels. "I wanted to make up."

Is this **my** Lucille? My eyes roll back in my head, and my back is even more fucked up after we're done.

She points to her ring finger. "Remember that the next time you slip it in your pocket."

I nod my head yes. In fact, it's the first thing I go to once I get to the school.

...

"I thought you fixed the fucking disposal?"

"I haven't even put my fucking keys down, Lulu."

"Don't fucking Lulu me. See? That's your problem. I can't depend on you for anything!"

"You can't depend on me? I work my ass off for you so you don't have to!"

"That's a joke."

"I don't want to fight. Please. Can't you just put back on the heels?" She gets the heels, only they're thrown at my head.

* * *

I'm in so much fucking pain when I wake up, it takes me twenty minutes to sit up from the couch.

"What's wrong?"

"My fucking back," I groan.

"Lay back down. I'll call the school and tell them you aren't coming in."

"No. It's our final practice before the game."

She has a seat next to me, before running her fingers through my hair. "I'm sorry, Baby."

"Is this because I won't move to Baltimore?"

"No." She starts to weep.

"Don't cry."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I'll make you some breakfast." She presses her lips to my cheek before she goes into the kitchen.

If I can even make it to the table…

...

I'm leaving early to get some rest. Maybe sleeping in my bed tonight will help. My eyes lock on a tan extended cab in my driveway. Only one person I know drives a truck like that. Her ex. I watch him hurry out of my house suspiciously, and screech the tires when he drives off. Lucille is in the shower when I get upstairs. I patiently wait for her at the foot of the bed.

She's surprise to see me home early, and then comes the look of remorse. "You passed him as he was leaving the house, didn't you?"

I nod my head.

She has a seat next to me, squeezing the towel tighter.

"Lulu, what the fuck are we doing?" I reach into my pocket and set my wedding ring on my knee. I took it off earlier when I saw Grey in the lunch room.

"Is she pretty?"

"Yeah, very."

"Did you fuck her?"

"No."

"Do you want to?"

"Yes."

"Do you realize this is the most honest we've been with each other in years?"

"Yeah."

"I fucking hate your cologne."

"I hate your short hair."

She starts to laugh as I join her.

"Did you fuck Blythe?"

"I tried. He wasn't interested. What's wrong with us?"

"Maybe there's nothing wrong with us. It's natural, right? To be attracted to others?"

"What if we had an open relationship?"

"What happens when I walk in on you fucking some dude in our bed?"

"We'd have rules. You don't speak about the women you're with, and you won't know about the guys. Neither of us bring them back to the house."

I love this woman, and other than our infidelity, our relationship is perfect.

"Are you mad?"

"No," I laugh, rubbing the back of my neck.

"I think we should go about it in a respectful way though. You're important to this town, and I wouldn't want to do anything that would make people think you're a joke if they see me with another man."

This is sounding better by the minute. "How long have you been thinking about this?"

"When I found your ring in your pocket that night."

"No dudes in my bed, Lulu. I'm fucking serious."

"You really want to do this?"

"Fuck yeah." This is fucking awesome! It's like the best of both fucking worlds, and I know the first person I'm putting against the wall.

* * *

I thought sleeping in my bed would solve my back problems, but I'm sluggish to get up. Lucille has made a buffet of food, and if there's one thing I love to do it's eat. My eyes trail up the back of her legs to her ass as she's finishing up the pancakes. "Wanna mess around?"

She flips off the stove and gets up on the counter.

Fuck yes! Pain or not, I don't care.

...

"Coach Negan, what's wrong?"

Okay, maybe I do care. I'm miserable as I sit on the bench, and I've already taken six ibuprofen. "Showers," I tell them. I shuffle down the hall, stopping half way down it as I press my hand to the locker.

"Back trouble?" Grey lightly touches her hand to my arm.

"Yeah," I groan.

"Come on." Her arm moves around my waist as she guides me to the infirmary.

It's really no help, but it's kinda nice being waited on like this.

"Lie down."

I don't know what a school nurse is going to do for my back. Shit. I quickly slip off my wedding ring, pocketing it.

"I broke my back when I was a girl. Fell from a roller coaster. There's two titanium rods in my back and twelve screws, so I know a bit about pain."

"Jesus fucking Christ."

"Got free passes to the theme park for life." She gives a chortle at her own words.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, and maybe a ridiculous settlement."

So her husband doesn't make the money. "Fuck," I moan in relief. It's like the pressure slowly releases.

"Better?"

"Yes."

"Lie just like that for a bit."

I don't plan on moving.

"Nurse Grey?" Our Principal walks into the infirmary. "I know it's short notice, but would you be willing to chaperone some of the students tomorrow at the away game? One of our other teachers cancelled."

My eyes shift over to Grey. Please say yes, please fucking say yes.

"That should be alright."

"Thank you," he nods, digging in her candy tray before he leaves.

Oh my god, yes. I'm fucking cured. I sit up, then reach for my back. Okay, not fucking really. "Grey, will you do that thing again?"

"Deep breath."

If anyone happens to be listening to the noises I'm making, they would think we are having sex. She pops my back one more time and the pain instantly leaves. "Oh, thank fuck." I sit up with ease for the first time in days. "I can return the favor if you want."

"It doesn't work that way for me."

I wasn't talking about the pain in her back. Shit, Lucille and I might have agreed to this arrangement, but little good does it do if I'm not sticking my dick in Grey.

"How far are we traveling?"

"Ninety miles." I realize after the game Saturday night, we'll be staying in the town until Sunday morning. This couldn't have come at a better time. "Your husband going to be okay with you going out of town for the night?"

"He works a lot."

Lonely wife. Perfect. Grey is a little fucking weird though. She doesn't look people in the eyes when she's talking to them. It's actually pretty fucking disrespectful, but I don't think she means it that way. I thought it was singular to me until the Principal was speaking with her. Maybe I'm really off base here.

She just seems bored with me, and she keeps looking over her shoulder like she's just waiting for me to get out.

"Guess I'll see you about ten tomorrow."

"You're leaving?"

"Think I should rest?"

Her eyes shift over to the door again, then jolt back to me. "Y- yes."

"Yeah, alright. Don't take advantage of me if I doze off now."

Her cheeks turn the color of her hair before she confines herself to her desk.

I've fucked my share of teachers, just never the nurse. Not that I've ever wanted to because the one before her was my nurse back when I went here, and I ain't about that shit. I catch her nervously adjusting her wedding ring as a smug grin starts to creep up the side of my cheek. Looks like I'm finally going to fuck a redhead. I wonder if the carpet matches the drapes.


	3. Chapter 3

I hover my hand over the alarm clock, eagerly waiting for 5:30. When it chirps, I smack the top and leap out of bed. I'm in such a hurry to shower, I leave half the soap in my hair, so I give it a more diligent second attempt. I spend a little more time on shaving, and fixing my hair.

 _I hate your cologne._

Is it really that fucking bad? Oh, I know why she hates it. It was her subtle way of telling me she doesn't like the attention I get from women when I wear it. Fuck it. Besides, it's not like she'll have to smell it. I almost break my ankle running down the steps like a madman, and choke on breakfast. I feel like a kid on Christmas and dash for the front door.

"Bye, Baby."

In all the games I've gone to, she's never been up early enough to tell me goodbye. I let go of the door knob and frown. What the fuck am I doing? I drop my bag and move my arms around her. My stomach is upset knowing there's a box of condoms in there. Knowing I stopped by the drug store on the way home to get them. Knowing they're not for my wife. I twist my wedding ring around my finger and give her a kiss. Why does it feel wrong now having the okay to do it, but back when I was fucking around on her it seemed okay? Is this arrangement maybe more for her than it is me?

"You better be off. Don't want you to be late."

"Yeah. Hey, look, when I get back, let's go somewhere. I'll take you into the city." I'm a fool for committing to this arrangement, and I'm not okay with some dude fucking my wife.

"That'll be fun. Now, go!" She shoos me off.

"What's the rush? It's not even 7. Wanna go back to bed?"

She looks nervously at the clock. "You know how it is. You'll get there, something will happen and before you know it it'll be time to leave."

"Yeah… I guess," I murmur.

She shoves on my side until I'm out the door.

"I love you."

"Yeah, love you." The front door is quickly closed.

I sling my bag over my shoulder. My wedding ring is staying on this away game. I throw the box of condoms away in our trashcan. You know what? I'm going to swing by the hardware store and order her that stuff to build her the outdoor swing she keeps talking about. I press my boot to the concrete, stopping my bike at the end of the street as I watch a tan extended cab screech past me. I look over my shoulder as my eyes follow his truck to my house. That's why she was trying to shove me out. She must have called him when I was in the shower. "Goddammit," I bark, revving my engine and speeding towards the school.

...

I almost break the goddamn metal locker door as I start to change into my uniform. After three hours of driving around, I'm still mad as fuck! Even after all that, _oh no, I won't fuck dudes in your bed_ , what did I see? Bullshit. I don't know what she sees in that motherfucker anyhow. She better not still be giving him money. **My** money. Goddammit! "Shit." I'm not even wearing the right uniform. Away game. Black pants, gray jersey. Get your fucking head clear.

"Coach Negan?" Grey pushes open the door. "Oh," she flushes, as her wide eyes lock on my ass.

This must be a sign. I see she bought a Devil's jersey. Her tits aren't too bad after all.

"S- sorry, the door was open."

Shit, that's not like me. Last thing I need is some kid walking in. I guess this Lucille shit is fucking me up.

Grey apologizes again, but instead of leaving, she's rooted in place.

Why is she apologizing? Oh. Right. I'm only in my baseball pants. "Heard you the first time." I laugh at her pink cheeks. "It's not like my dick is out, and even then," my lip curls upward, "I wouldn't mind."

"Looks like I'm too late then."

My face goes blank.

"The bus is leaving."

"Fuck the bus, I'll drive us." My eyes shift over to my couch as I unzip my pants.

Grey lowers her head with a nervous laugh, sneaking one more peak before she hurries from my office.

Well, damn. That didn't go at all like I planned. I'm just used to all these teachers dropping their little panties and bending over. I actually don't mind her playing hard to get. I like a challenge.

...

I take a head count, then sit in the seat behind Grey. I'm tall enough that I can see over her shoulder. "You doing nurse shit?"

It startles her as she slams the book shut, crushing her pen.

"You sure do startle easy. Here." I give her the pencil from my clipboard.

"Th- thanks."

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

I get up and move next to her. "What are you doing?"

"It's n- nothing." She seems somewhat embarrassed as she quickly puts it back in her bag.

I notice it's some type of law book before it goes back into the bag. "So, you like baseball?"

"I've never seen a game before." The pencil is handed back to me.

"What? They don't have baseball in Australia?"

"We have baseball."

"How long have you lived in the states- damn, what did you do to your arm?"

She flinches when I go to lift up her shirt, moving her sleeve back down.

Goddamn, that's the biggest bruise I've ever seen.

"I'm knackered. Could we talk later?"

Usually women love to talk about themselves. What's her deal? "Yeah. Sure." Maybe I'm coming on way too strong.

She curls up on the benched seat, using her bag as a pillow.

So much for keeping my mind off the fact Lucille is fucking her ex right now.

...

Every time I look up at Grey, that girl has something else she's bought from the concession stand. Right now it's a pretzel, dipped into nacho cheese. Eh, shit, she's talking to the Spanish teacher. Let's just say I've gone south of the border with that one a few too many times. Hopefully, she doesn't run Grey off. At least Grey looks disinterested with her, too, and it's not much longer until Grey gets up again. When she returns, she's got a pickle. A rather _large_ pickle. The bat donut slips from my hand as soon as she takes her first bite. I clear my throat and turn my attention back to the dugout. "H- Hall, you're on-deck."

All of them give me a funny look.

"I mean, uh..." The weight fumbles from my hand again.

"The rotation hasn't changed, Coach," one of my kids laugh.

I throw the donut at him. I fucking knew that!

...

Despite my numerous distractions, we win today's game. Grey and some of the other teachers help check the players in at the hotel.

"Hey," Karen smiles at me. Karen is our biology teacher. She tries to pull me into her room by the front of my pants.

I could have gone in there, but I remove her hand.

"Faithful this month?" She rolls her eyes.

"Don't condescend me."

"Yeah, okay." The door is slammed shut in my face as it hits the brim of my hat, knocking it off.

When I stand upright again, I notice Grey a few doors down from mine. "Grey," I call, jogging to her. I press my hand to the door frame to keep her from going inside.

Her hands knot nervously in front of her.

"So, what'd you think of your first game?"

"I didn't really understand it."

"The Red Sox are playing tonight. Why don't you come watch it with me and I'll explain the rules."

"Thank you, but I'm going to order some food."

She didn't eat enough at the game? Damn, I should have taken Karen up on her offer.

Grey walks under my arm, and starts to close the door. "Goodnight."

"Yeah, night," I sigh.

...

"What?" I groan, opening my door thinking it's one of my players, but it ends up being Grey.

"Uh."

"Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"Is your phone working?"

"Yours isn't?"

"No. May I use it to order food?"

"Um, yeah." I open the door up so she can come in. Good thing I didn't order the porn I was about to. "Here." I hand her the menu that came with the welcome packet.

"Thank you."

I stretch out on the bed. "What are you getting?"

"Cake. Just not sure what kind.."

"What?" I start to laugh. "That's what you're going to have for dinner?"

"Yes. Definitely."

I press my hand to the receiver before she picks it up. "Order one of everything."

"That's a lot of food."

"Well, I can eat a lot."

"Dinner together?"

"Don't make it fucking awkward or anything." I press my ear to the other side of the receiver because I want to hear their reaction when we order 15 desserts. She seems uncomfortable about how forward I am, so I back away. I wish I could figure this woman out, but I can't. I've seen her lady boner come out for me in those fucking pants of mine. Damn, maybe I should put them back on.

"They're bringing it right up."

I pat the bed.

"You don't have a table?"

"Do you fucking see a table?"

Her eyes scan the room as if she's waiting for it to appear. She eases down on the bed, just half an ass cheek on it.

Alright, this shy game is getting redundant. I like hard to get, but not **that** hard to get.

The knock on the door startles her as she quickly rises.

"It's just the room service."

"Right." A cart is wheeled in, and her worried eyes become heavy. "This is perfect!"

My mouth starts to salivate. Occasionally, Lucille will make this kinda shit for me, but usually it's no GMO's, no MSG, GF, no sugar, no dairy, no artificial colors, flavors, or preservatives, no trans fat. I'm exhausting myself. I lean over and grab as many cookies as I can fit in my hand. "Goddamn, these will suck your toes." I shove two more in my mouth. "What are you waiting for? Because don't think I won't eat your food, too."

She seems confused.

I start on the bowl of ice cream next, crumbling the rest of my cookies in it. What the hell is wrong with her?

She's really waiting for me to finish before she starts.

I pass the other spoon off to her.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, that's weird."

"I'm sorry."

I'm going to ignore that, too.

She holds her bowl of ice cream and starts to stir it around.

"What are you doing?"

"It makes it softer."

I mimic what she's doing.

Grey really wasn't kidding around about dessert. This girl can put some food away.

I have to say, it's fucking hot. "What is this?"

"A tart."

"It's like a mini pie." I push the entire thing in my trap.

"Isn't all pie miniature in comparison with you?" She really enjoys making comments about my size.

I hope it turns her on.

She grabs two cookies and puts a piece of cheesecake between them.

"That is a fucking brilliant idea!"

Gray moves it closer so I can have a bite.

"Oh, goddamn, that's good."

She starts on it, licking some of the chocolate from the cookie off her thumb.

Because I'm not hard enough already.

"I don't have time for this." Grey tosses the fruit skewer to the floor, continuing to consume her cheesecake sandwich.

Goddamn, I haven't fucking laughed like this, well, ever. I steal another bite. I think we're both on some weird sugar high because we can't stop laughing.

"I love food."

"Me, too. Here's your cake." I pass her a plate.

Grey gets more comfortable on the bed and accidentally sits on the remote, turning the TV on. "I'm so full." It doesn't stop her from attempting to eat the cake.

"If we throw up, we can start again."

"That's a really great idea!"

"It's a horrible idea! Look at what gluttonous pieces of shit we are. Throwing up food to eat more?"

She tosses her head back, laughing so hard there's tears coming down her cheeks.

Damn, there's no way I can fuck her being this full. How do I keep her here?

Her eyes light up. "Legend is coming on!" She feels for my remote under the covers, then turns up the volume some.

"What's Le-" I almost choke. "Legend," I cough.

"Just watch it."

I don't fucking care what we watch. As long as she doesn't leave.

...

I end up dozing off twice. This movie is boring as fuck. Until... "Damn, that devil is bad ass as fuck! Holy shit!"

Grey looks me up and down. "You know, you would make a good Darkness."

"What the fuck kinda thing is that to say to anyone?"

"I just meant.. because of your size."

"Oh," I laugh. "Built like a brick shithouse?"

"Yep."

I'm rather disappointed with the way this fucking thing ends. "I thought Lily was going to end up with the Darkness devil dude. What a bunch of fuckery."

"I agree, I wish she would have been with Darkness. It would have made for a better ending. It's tragic because he sees her innocence and it takes a hold on him, yet he's overcome with lust."

I know all about being overcome with lust. "If I leave to take a piss are you going to slip out of here?"

"We still have more cake."

"Nope," I belch, starting to laugh. "I ate the rest of it."

"Well, there's always fudge." She breaks off a piece and tries to entice me with it.

I know she didn't mean for me to, but I eat it right out of her fingers.

She's unfazed by my attempt at coming onto her, and continues to consume.

"I'll be right back."

...

I pace back and forth in the bathroom as I try and devise some strategy to fuck her, but the truth is, if she wanted to fuck, we'd be fucking. Maybe I will put the baseball pants back on after all. Shit, how long have I fucking been in here? "So, I was think-"

Grey is sound asleep.

Shit. Actually, this isn't that bad. At least, she's still here.

I flip to the sports news channel to watch highlights of the game. Damn, the Red Sox lost.

Her stomach is upset, making all kinds of noises.

Maybe I should wake her up?

She gasps, jolting her eyes open. "Oh, god."

"Relax. You were only asleep for a few minutes."

"I should return to my room." She hurries out of the bed, slipping on her sneakers.

"Alright, I'll walk you back." Damn, am I really not going to get to fuck her? This sucks!

"That's not necessary. Thank you for dinner."

"Yeah. No pro-"

"Blythe," Grey says startled.

The fuck is he doing here?

He snakes his hands around her waist and down over her ass before giving her a kiss.

I grit my teeth in jealousy.

She pulls away from him, embarrassed. "This is Coach-"

"He's our neighbor, but I'm sure you two already knew that, right, Ned?" His lip curls upward, as he pulls Grey closer.

I can't believe her husband is this piece of shit.

"Say goodnight," Blythe growls against her ear.

Grey lowers her head. "G-goodnight," she murmurs.

He digs his fingers into the back of her neck, guiding her down the hall.

"Fuck," I sigh, slamming my door. Porn it is.

* * *

"Will you check again, please?"

The girl at the front desk points to the computer screen. "See? It says she checked out this morning."

"Okay. Thanks," I murmur, starting for the bus. Damn, I hope I didn't cause an argument. Not that I ever gave a shit before, but Blythe was not happy to see her come out of my room. What man would be? I'd probably choke a guy out if I saw Lucille leave another man's hotel room. Shit, that just reminds me what I'm going to go home to. This open relationship bullshit. Fuck.

* * *

I have waited all goddamn day for school to let out, and make a mad dash for the infirmary.

Grey closes the door behind me.

Fuck yeah, I like where this is going. These exam tables are way better than my couch. What I thought would be us fucking turns out to be something completely different.

"We're behaving unprofessionally."

Well.. I already knew that, but compared to the other teachers, it's really nothing more than flirting. If you can even call it that.

"Please don't approach me unless it's a medical reason."

"What?" I start to laugh. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. Definitely."

"I don't understand. Saturday night was incredible. I had a great time with you."

"What would people say if they saw us together? I'm married."

"Who gives a fuck? And you've been married all this time. Why is it such a big deal all of the sudden?"

"Please leave."

"He fucking told you to distance yourself, didn't he?" That motherfucker.

"This is my decision."

"Grey, come on. Is this really what you want?"

"Leave."

"No, talk to me!" I cock my head to the side, inching over her shirt some. There are bruises on her neck. "Did he fucking put his hands on you?" I knew he was shady as fuck from the moment I saw him.

"How dare you imply things about my husband!"

"Lie all you want, but I'm not buying any of the bullshit you're selling."

She picks up the phone.

I'm assuming it's to call school security. "Fine, I'm leaving. What he's doing is wrong. I just hope you see that before it's too late and he fucking kills you." I start to close the door, but poke my head back inside.

"I'm dialing the number."

"Alright, I'm going, but I want you to know that I'd never hurt you, Grey."

Her remorseful eyes stare back at me.

I know this has to happen for her safety, but if I do find out that motherfucker is hurting her, I **will** kill him.


	4. Chapter 4

I must have mowed the lawn three times a week that summer. Fixed our walkway. Cleaned the garage. Any excuse to be outside hoping I'd catch a glimpse of Grey for whatever reason. When school finally started that year, I realized that seeing her every day was the hard part. She ate lunch in her office, and immediately left after school hours. When we'd have our staff meetings, she wouldn't even look at me. Month after month, I'd watch her try and cover up bruises, or walk with some new limp. I couldn't even go to the police outside of our town because there's no telling how many departments were eating out of Blythe's hand.

"You're usually a lot more vocal," Karen comments, buttoning up her blouse.

I sit up from her bed, then start to put my boots on.

"Okay, so… I'll see you next week?"

"Yeah."

"If you ever want to talk I'm always-"

I slam Karen's bedroom door behind me. New year, same fucking shit. Who fucking knows where Lucille is. She said she was taking a plane to Boston to be with her sister while her sister had the baby. I believed it. It turned out to be true, only Lucille's sister called the house Sunday to tell us she had a girl. I covered up for Lucille, said she was sick, but it's been messing with me. Thank Christ baseball season is just a few weeks away.

* * *

It's the last goddamn day of winter and one of these little fuckers decide it would be funny to pull the fire alarm. I'm freezing my dick off, and it doesn't look like we're going inside any time soon. My eyes shift to my right. Grey is so close to me, we can practically touch. There are so many things I want to tell her, but the kids are in front of us.

The tips of Grey's ice cold fingers brush against mine briefly until they lock around mine.

I always knew she pushed me away because of Blythe, but now I have my confirmation. Maybe it's fucking stupid to be this wound up over a woman I've only had a few conversations with. I squeeze her small hand a little tighter. We don't make eye contact, or even speak, but these few minutes really help put things into perspective. I'm waiting for the moment we're forced to let go because one of the kids turn around, but they're pretty occupied on their stupid phones. I think they call it wording. No, wait, that ain't fucking right. Texting. Yeah. That's what it is. I find the whole thing asinine. It takes too goddamn long to punch the buttons when you could call the person and tell them what you want. It's the dumbest thing I've ever seen because these kids are texting the person right beside them. Right be-fucking-side them. Lucille's pretty savvy with that shit. I just see it as another bill. We already have a home phone.

Grey releases my hand when one of the kids turn around.

"Can we go home?"

"No," I bark at the kid a little more hostile than I should. Grey and I never do get the chance to hold hands again. It's just too fucking chaotic, and before I know it, we're herding the kids back inside. As much as I want to go see her after school, I just go straight home. It's a good thing, too, because Blythe was in the parking lot when I left. I get another surprise that day. A table full of food. Real food. None of that cardboard shit. Lucille is all over me, too.

"Your food is cold now."

"Worth it." I give her a lazy grin.

"I need to tell you something."

"It can't wait until after dinner?"

"No."

I sigh, and set back down my fork. "Well? Let's have whatever's about to ruin my dinner."

"I didn't really go to my sisters."

I don't ask her where she went, and she's not willing to be any more forthcoming on her whereabouts. "She called on Sunday. Had a little girl."

"Why did you go along with my lie when I got back?"

"Because I really don't want to know what my wife spent her entire weekend doing that was so secretive, she had to make up some bullshit to cover her tracks." I'm not even fucking hungry anymore, and you **know** that's a bad sign when I don't want food. Instead, I go for a ride on my bike. I don't get back until after midnight. She's nowhere to be found. I end up spending the night with Karen.

* * *

"Wanna go to the Orioles game with me tomorrow night? My treat."

I let out a breathed laugh, zipping up my pants. "Karen, you hate baseball. You said the only reason you even go to the away games is to fuck me."

"You just seem down, and not that I'm complaining, but you've been over here almost every night."

"You said it best. Unfaithful this month."

"Whatever, you know what I mean. Is Lucille seeing her ex again?"

"How the fuck do you know that?"

"I, uh," she reddens, "I overheard you on the phone with her one time."

Goddammit, I knew I shouldn't have taken that phone call at work. "Karen, keep your mouth shut. I don't need the whole town knowing my business."

"I won't say anything. I kept you and Grey a secret all this time. Saw her go in your room that night at the away game. That's why you didn't want to mess around, wasn't it?"

"There's nothing going on between Grey and me."

"You'd like there to be though. I caught you two holding hands the other day."

"I don't want to talk about Grey."

"Most women wouldn't be okay with being the distraction, but I would do just about anything for you." Karen tears up and looks away from me.

"Karen, you don't even know me."

"I know you're a role model to the kids. I guess you don't realize how important you are to this town. That's why I haven't said anything about Lucille. I think people would be pretty upset if they knew your marriage was just for show."

"My marriage isn't for show. We're just having a rough patch." I should have fucking taken her up on that offer to go see the game. At least, she wouldn't be able to talk over all the noise then. "Why are you crying?!"

"I just told you I loved you and you didn't say anything."

"No you didn't!"

"It was implied, asshole!"

"I'm not a goddamn mind reader."

"That's all you have to fucking say?"

"Of course it is! We fuck, I leave. Jesus Christ, pull it together."

"What would Lucille say about Grey?"

"Are you threatening me?"

"N-no," she cowers. "Wait, don't leave, please. I'm sorry!"

I'm not going to be blackmailed and write her off completely. What the fuck is wrong with all of the women in my life?

...

"Are you going to sit here on your bike all night?"

I shrug my shoulders.

Lucille sets her hand on mine.

I take her hand, brushing my finger over her disappointing wedding ring.

"Do you remember the day you gave it to me?"

"I didn't even get the proposal right."

"It was horrible," she laughs.

I'm anything but amused.

She braces my cheek.

"Let's leave. Tonight, Lulu."

"What? Where would we go?"

"Wherever we want. It'd be like the old days. No responsibilities."

"We can't walk away from our responsibilities."

"Why not?"

"What about your job?"

"Forget it," I murmur, moving my foot down on the kickstand. I'm not hungry, but I search the fridge anyway.

She closes the fridge door, then leans against it. "If that's what you really want, I'll go."

The corner of my lip tugs upward. I don't really want to leave. Guess I just wanted to know that she can still have the ability to surprise me.

"I got you something. I know your birthday is tomorrow, but I can't wait," she says, taking a box off the table. "Here."

I don't even get the lid off before she takes it upon herself to remove it. "Wow." I pull the leather jacket from the box. "Is.. is this where you went that weekend?"

"Yep," she beams.

"I can't believe you drove five-hundred miles for a fucking jacket," I laugh.

"I guess it is kind of stupid, but the store wouldn't ship it, and you know how hard it is to find clothes in your size. I know you think I was with him, but I wasn't. Anyways, put it on!"

She **can** still surprise me.

* * *

I had more fun with Lucille last night than any other time I can remember. I'm excited to see what she's made me for my birthday breakfast. I freeze before I step into the kitchen.

"You can't call here! What if he answers?"

My stomach sinks.

"Today? No, it's his birthday."

I start to walk out the front door, but listen back in on the conversation.

"If you're going to make me choose, it's him."

It honestly comes as a shock to me.

"Okay, just for an hour tonight."

I slam the door so fucking hard, the small half circle window cracks. Another shitty birthday. I don't even know why I act surprised by it.

...

Despite this morning, the afternoon makes up for it. My new shortstop has a fucking cannon on him.

He launches the ball across the field to first base.

"Fuck yeah," I clap.

"Kid's got a cannon on him," my assistant coach comments.

"No, shit. Bring it in," I shout. "What's your name?"

"M- Mills."

"Mills is our ticket to another perfect season, boys."

He seems embarrassed by the praises from the others. The kid better fucking get used to it because he's going to make a career out of it. Damn, if one of my students did make it, maybe it would help my chances of coaching for the Red Sox. Lucille would love to move back to Boston. I wouldn't mind living in the city then. Shit, I'm getting way ahead of myself. "Showers," I tell them.

...

I set down my playbook on the desk next to a piece of cheesecake sandwiched between two cookies. Grey. I drop my ring in the desk drawer. When I look over my shoulder, she's leaning against the door holding two spoons.

"Happy Birthday, Coach."

It's so fucking good to hear her voice, and it isn't because of the accent. "I'm not sharing."

"I deserve that."

"Have a seat, jerk." I join her on the couch.

"Late nights?"

She has no idea how many teachers I've fucked on this leather couch. I brush off her question. "Blythe is probably expecting you home soon."

"He's out of town."

"Police business?"

"Vegas bachelor party."

Negan, don't fuck this up with your trap. "I miss you." Or you could be a complete fucking pussy! What's wrong with you, man? "I didn't mean-" My eyes lower to her hand on my knee.

"I'm sorry for shutting you out."

"I understand why you put a distance between us."

"No you don't. I can't stay long. Blythe has one of the other officers watching me."

I reach for the plate on my desk.

Her worry somewhat dissolves and she laughs.

We fight over the last bite. I win.

"I bought you this. I'm sorry I can't stay." She sets the gift in place of her hand on my knee.

"Isn't there any way you could sneak out without them knowing?" I feel like a teenager again.

"He'll check with the alarm company to see if the door has been open."

I reach for her small hand. "I have thought about you every fucking day."

She tries to tug her hand from me.

"Don't I get a birthday wish?"

"It doesn't work like that."

"He's two-thousand miles away."

She gives the door a nervous glance. "The window above the back porch doesn't have a sensor. Wait until the shift change at 6." Her slate eyes lock with mine. A rarity. She gives me a weak smile before hurrying out.

I open the gift she's given me. It's the Legend movie we watched. Goddammit.  
...

My leg frantically bounces up and down as I watch the minutes tick by. I do exactly like she instructed, and by some divine miracle, keep from falling to my death. The window opens up, and I'm almost too big to fit through it but manage.

She's in disbelief that I've pulled it off.

I'm in disbelief.

"Five minutes."

"All this for five minutes?" I would have done it for one.

"I'm scared Blythe will find out."

"You let me fucking deal with him."

"You can't fight your way out of this. There is no stopping him, and if you get caught up in this, I'll never forgive myself."

I feel so fucking lost. This is fucking crazy the lengths I'm willing to go through. "Did you ask me to come tonight because you wanted to fuck me?"

The alarm chimes on the front door. "Grey, it's Frank. Blythe is on the phone for you."

"Hide," she mouths, shoving me in the closet.

I can't make out what he says to her, and then it gets quiet. When the knob moves on the closet, I ready myself for a fight, but it's her. "Are you safe around them?"

"Blythe made an example out of a deputy that tried to grope me one time. They fear him, and you should to."

"He doesn't fucking intimidate me."

"Don't be stubborn. It will cost you your life."

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you ask me here to fuck you?"

"You're right to the point."

"I am when you give me five minutes. Well, three now."

"You must be a terrible lay if you only last three minutes."

"I'm fucking serious."

Just an owl eyed stare.

Fuck it. I yank her forward by the wrist, sinking my teeth into her neck.

Grey lets out a hot breath in my ear as her fingers press against my chest. "Negan, stop. This isn't right."

"Fuck him, Grey." I step back to the couch, moving her on my lap. "I know you want this."

She purses her lips before nodding.

I run my hands up her slim waist, but she stops them before I touch anything good.

"Let me turn the lights off."

"Well, goddamn, I ain't that hideous."

"It's not that. The light from the window."

That ain't her fucking reasoning at all. She's hiding bruises. I move her off me and start for the window.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want to fucking hear that shit. Hear how it's not his goddamn fault that he beats you."

"He has never put his hand to me. Why do you keep assuming that?"

"Really?" I take a menacing step forward, grabbing her by the arm. The fabric on her shirt rips when I scoot it over to reveal the newest one on her shoulder. "Walk into a wall with hands, Grey?" I'm sure she has a million excuses, but right now she can't come up with one or even a response for that matter. "Or whatever stupid fucking clumsy bullshit you give caused it." I slide the window up, and stick my foot out it.

"Negan, wait."

"Save it." I should have fucking known things were going too well.

* * *

This is the dumbest thing I have ever done in my life. I let out a few quick breaths, then brace myself. "Fuck," I yell, when the baseball is launched from the pitching machine and hits me right in the eye. I cup my face, leaning against the chain link fence. Goddammit, I think I broke a bone. You fucking idiot. I stumble to the infirmary, swaying in the doorway.

"Oh, Christ," Grey gasps. She points to the table. "What happened?" Her cool fingers touch my cheek.

My eyes squint when a light is shined in my face. "I'm sorry about last night. I had no right to yell at you like that." I grit my teeth in pain.

"You broke a couple of blood vessels."

I move her wrist down some. "Grey, I'm serious. I didn't get smacked in the face for you to blow me off."

"You had one of your players strike you in the face?"

"No. I, uh. Walked in front of the pitching machine," I redden.

It makes her tear up some. "Why didn't you just come see me?"

"I didn't want to get you in trouble. I figured with an injury, it wouldn't be so suspicious."

"I can't believe you did that, you dumb cunt."

"Fuck, don't make me laugh, it hurts."

She giggles, sniffing up her nose. Grey presses her lips to my cheek not once, but twice. "The ball left indentions."

"I think that's the least of my problems."

"You'll be fine," she smiles.

"Well," Blythe starts, "ain't that a fucking relief?"

Grey's face becomes stricken with fear. "Five already?"

"Isn't it funny how time just sneaks up on you?"

I have never met anyone that gives me such an unsettling feeling.

"I'm almost through," Grey stammers.

"How about you put a band aid on that shit, tough guy? Leave me the fuck alone with my wife."

I go without a combative word because I don't want to get her in any trouble, but I stand outside the door because I don't trust him.

"Get your shit, come on."

"W- what's the rush?"

I can tell she's backing up away from him. I clench my fists tight.

"I got something for you."

"Did you bring it with you?"

"And spoil the surprise? It's at home. You're going to like it. I've been saving it for a long time."

I don't understand why women like Grey stay with men like Blythe. I never have, and I guess I never will.

* * *

I didn't sleep at all last night. I stand at the foot of my bed as I watch Lucille. I love this woman, but the more time I spend with Grey, the more guilt I start to feel. The plan was to fuck Grey, not fucking spend every waking second thinking about her. Lucille and I might have this open relationship, but now I have these feelings for someone that isn't my wife. I think about how fucking crushed Lucille would be if I told her how captivated I've become with Grey. I know this because Lucille still loves her ex, and it fucking devastates me that I'm not enough for her. That she'd rather be with this piece of shit that uses her, than someone that loves and provides for her.

"What's wrong?"

I drop my head, shaking it side to side.

She scoots to the edge of the bed. "Tell me."

"I thought that this open relationship would be a good thing, but I fucking hate it. Do you even fuck anyone else? Or is this arrangement just for him?"

"We agreed not to talk about this."

"Fine." I stuff my boots into my bag and head for the door.

"Just him," she cries.

I slam my eyes shut. I knew it, but what does knowing get me?

"He just needs a little help-"

"He uses you! Jesus fucking Christ, at least if he gave a shit about you I could feel a little better, but no! How much money have you given him?" I slam the door shut. "I said, how much?!"

"Four thousand dollars," she whines.

"For what? Drugs?"

"Y- yes."

I cover my face with my hand. "I can't fucking believe this shit," I sigh.

"I'm sorry, I'll get a job-"

"You think this is about money?" I put my fist through the wall. "I don't give a fuck about money! Lucille, you do what you fucking have to, but I swear to Christ, if I so much as find a scratch on you this time, I'm going to fucking kill him. He touches you, he dies. Do you understand me?"

"Baby, it's not his faul-"

"Answer me!"

"Okay," she sobs. "I understand."

I get my wallet from my pocket and fling two hundred dollars on the floor. "I'm gonna be fucking late for work," I mutter, slamming our bedroom door behind me. I might not be able to do something about Grey, but I sure as shit can do something about Lucille's ex, and it will be a welcome release. That motherfucker.

...

Grey needs to know how I feel, and she needs to know about Lucille. I fear that when Grey finds out I'm married, she's never going to speak to me again, then I really will be alone. I narrow my eyes at the woman sitting at Grey's desk. "Where's Nurse Grey?"

"Oh, didn't you hear? She's going to be out for a while."

"What? Why?"

"She fell down her steps. Broke her ribs, arm, and they think her neck is fractured."

I just stand there with my mouth gaping trying to process everything.

"They're concerned she's paralyzed, but won't know much until the scans come back. She's in a coma right now."

"Oh my fucking god," I panic, grabbing the sides of my head before bolting out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Seeing Grey in that bed is indescribable. She looks like she fell off a goddamn building. Her little fingers that poke out of the cast are swollen and bloody. I pull up a chair and move her hand with the cast in mine. Is she going to be al-fucking-right? Around her eyes it's purple and red. "Grey," I whisper. Her neck is in a brace, and what part is showing has bruises. I look away from her because I can't stomach it. "Grey," I stammer. She's struggling to breathe, so I get the nurse. She explains that Grey's left lung has collapsed. Blythe is nowhere to be found, not that I'm complaining, but when Lucille got in her car accident a few years back, you couldn't pry me from her side. I take a wet paper towel and clean some of the dried blood from her forehead. I never realized just how much make up she wore until it started to come off while I cleaned her face. There's several spots where you can tell she had been covering up old bruises. I also never realized just how many scars her hair hid. There are several clumps of dried matted blood in her hair I try to clean. The pillow is soaked in blood and it infuriates me. I take my frustration out on these nurses and demand that they send someone in here immediately to stitch these gashes up.

* * *

The kids and other faculty brought her several things. Cards, flowers, balloons, stuffed animals. Someone even got her a stupid fish. I shake some of the food in the water before having a seat beside her. "Grey, are you ever going to wake up?" I missed practice for the first time since I've been with the school to stay by her side. Her breathing is worse today, but the swelling in her face has gone down some.

"Well, I have some good news," the nurse starts.

Good news? Good news!

"She's not paralyzed, nor is her neck broken or fractured." She starts to remove Grey's neck brace.

"Why won't she wake up?" I don't listen to what she has to say and turn my attention to Grey. Oh my god, her fucking neck! "T- thanks," I murmur. I wait for the nurse to leave before hovering my hand over Grey's neck. It's unsettling how well the bruises match a hand. Fuck, does this mean he held her down while he hit her in the face? Or tried to strangle her? I pull my hand back as I plop down in the chair. Goddammit.

...

I open my eyes when I hear the rustling of plastic. "What's wrong?" Fuck, I'm groggy. How long was I asleep for?

"I'm going to change her catheter, dear. Why don't you step out and get some coffee?"

"Okay," I frown. I notice the clock in the hall. Jesus, it's three am. I'm fearful to leave her side. What if Blythe comes to finish what he started? Christ, what if the nurses are on his payroll?

"Coach Negan?"

"Yes?"

"My son is on your team. Shortstop."

"Oh. Right, Mills." I shake the doctor's hand.

"Is Lucille alright?"

"Yeah, she's home. Nurse Grey is in ICU."

"The redhead?"

"..yeah."

"She was brought in by one of the deputies. Found her off 91. Hit and run."

My forehead puckers. "What?"

"Blythe has been trying to find the son of a bitch that did it."

"I'm sure he has."

"Looking forward to another season, Coach. I need to get into prep for my next surgery."

I'm sure I look like some deranged psychopath as I stand in the middle of that waiting room. White knuckled, veins popping from my neck and forehead. If the nurse didn't come out at that exact moment, I would have left to kill Blythe. There's something I want to see, and wait patiently for the nurse to leave before I do it. I slide the blanket up to Gray's hips. Her inner thighs are bruised blue, red, and purple, as well as her knees. I quickly cover her back up before someone notices. "Grey, please fucking wake up."

* * *

"Wanna go to the city this weekend?"

"No, I'm busy." I wipe the rest of the shaving cream from my face, then get dressed.

"Oh?" She watches jealously as I put a spare pair of clothing in my bag. "Does this have anything to do with where you've been the last two nights?"

"Thought we agreed not to talk about it?"

"Yeah. You're right."

I caught her with her ex again, in **my** fucking bed.

"I love yo-"

I shut the door before she can finish speaking.

...

"Any changes?"

The nurse shakes her head at me.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, dear."

Grey feels cold, so I cover her with the blanket at the foot of the bed.

"You can talk to her."

"What's the point if she's in a coma?"

"They say that coma patients can hear what's going on around them."

I tell Grey more about me than anyone knows. Oddly, talking with her makes me feel better. Well, the talking to her part, not sharing shit, because I'm really not all that interesting. I press the back of my hand to her cheek. She's still so cold. What if she's dying and they just don't want to tell me? I rub my hands against hers trying to warm it up. Her fingers twitch in mine. "Grey," I gasp. It's the only movement from her the rest of the night. I'm sure it's nothing more than just some muscle spasm, but I have to start thinking positive.

* * *

Blythe attends every home game, tonight being no different. I don't mind it while Grey is in the hospital because I know she's safe if he's here. He always sits with the Mayor. No doubt some kind of extortion deal. I feel indifferent about our win today because my mind isn't here. This isn't me moping about some stupid bullshit crush. This woman might actually die. I can't prove that Blythe left those marks, just like I can't prove that he did this to her, but I feel responsible not doing a fucking thing about it the first time I saw those marks. There's got to be some way to go about this without Blythe knowing. My eyes widen. That law book Grey had on the bus that day. She **was** trying to do something about it. Guess I should use the library for something other than fucking the librarian.

Karen steps inside the dugout, interrupting my train of thought. "Do you want to come over tonight?"

"Thought I made myself pretty clear that I don't want anything from you."

"I'm sorry about Grey."

"Why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one on a ventilator-" I frown, having a seat on the bench.

"I know, I went to see her."

"Why won't she fucking wake up? How do I live with myself knowing I could have done something?"

"You can't help her being clumsy and falling down the steps. It's just one of those freak accidents."

Is it really that easy to manipulate this entire town into thinking it's just some freak accident? Why don't they see the bruises on her?

"Negan?"

"Go home, okay?"

"What about you?"

"What about me? This isn't about me."

"It's affecting you. Do you even realize that you won today's game?"

I shrug my shoulders.

"Baseball is everything to you. Don't throw it away on some girl. You'll regret-"

"The only thing I ever regret are the times I emptied into you." I get a certain satisfaction from hearing her sobs.

* * *

Every day I buy Grey a piece of cheesecake from the hospital cafeteria in hopes that she'll wake up. Today ends the same as all the others. With me eating it.

"See you tomorrow, dear."

"Yeah," I murmur at the nurse, starting for the parking lot. I do a double take, then backtrack. Where the hell is my bike?

"Seems you were parked illegally," Blythe smirks, slowly removing his glasses.

"Bullshit, it was right fucking here."

"Not the way I see it."

"Where's my bike?"

"Had it towed up to the station. You can get it out of impound on Monday. Oh, wait, I almost forgot." He's written me a ticket. "Stay the fuck away from my wife."

"Keep your fucking hands off her."

"That sounded like a threat." He rests his hand on his handcuffs. "Yeah, that's more like it," he snickers at me backing up some. "You have a nice day now, Ned."

I watch him speed off and crumble the ticket up. "Fuck!"

...

I hate riding in the goddamn car. I'm too fucking big and I feel like my knees are in my chest. I hit my fucking head trying to get out of the Spanish teacher's car. "Thanks for the ride."

"Thanks for the, well, you know," she smirks, biting her lip.

I actually feel a little used right now whoring myself out for a goddamn ride. The front door opens before I even get to the entry way. "I tried calling you six times. Where the fuck have you been?"

"I just got home. Where is your bike?"

"Someone from work is in the hospital. I wasn't thinking clearly and parked in a fire zone."

"I made you curry chicken."

"How the fuck did you have time to make food if you just got- never mind, I don't feel well. I'm going to bed."

"I know what will make you feel better."

"Not in the mood." I have a seat on the bed, and pull my boots off.

Lucille rubs my back. "Talk to me."

I don't want to talk. This Grey thing is fucking with my head. What if he fucking kills her? He's threatened by me, obviously. Making up lies to have my bike towed. I know it's a warning, but it will not keep me from her.

* * *

I feel in my front pocket, then reach inside to grab my marker from practice earlier. Signing my name on her cast would be fucking stupid, so I write 'Darkness' on it instead. "God, I miss you. What if you don't fucking wake up?"

"Hey, Baby," Lucille smiles.

"H- hey." Oh, fuck. My eyes shift between the two of them.

"I went by the school to bring you some lunch. They said you were here." Lucille stands at the foot of the bed as she looks Grey over.

The look on her face is exactly what I thought. What I didn't want.

Her eyes well up. "She _is_ pretty."

"I didn't want you to find out like this-"

"Do you love her?"

"No, but you should know that I do care for her."

"Is this where you've been all week?"

"Yes."

"She's the Sheriff's wife. Is he the one who impounded your bike?"

I give her a slow nod.

Lucille starts to cry.

"I'd never put you in danger."

"It's not that. You answered all my questions without a single hesitation. Yet, I lose track of the lies I tell you about him."

"I don't want this to happen to you, Lulu."

"What do you mean?"

"Blythe beat the shit out of her, and this isn't the first time."

Lucille touches her fingers to the cast. "But, it looks like she was hit by a car."

"That's one of the rumors. What's that one you always used to tell me?"

"Negan, I don't-"

"Answer my goddamn question!"

"St- stairs, the stairs."

I open one of the cards and shove it close to her face.

"They think she fell down the-" Lucille presses the tips of her fingers to her lips.

I lift up the blanket and show Lucille all of Grey's bruises. "He did this to her. Look. **Look**!"

Lucille sobs into her hand as she takes Grey in.

"It took Grey for me to understand why you still love him after everything he's put you through." She doesn't deny loving him, and I don't question it. "He's not going to ever change, and this **is** his fault. Grey's situation is complicated because of who Blythe is. There is no excuse for yours. Do you understand me?"

She nods her head.

"I want to hear it. I've been patient with this shit long enough. It stops today."

"Y- yes."

I pick my backpack up off the floor.

"No. Stay with her. I'm going to fly up and see my sister for a few days. Do some thinking."

"I love you more than anything, Lucille."

"I love you, too," she smiles.

I have no doubt in my mind that she's going to visit her sister this time. Seeing Grey in that bed made Lucille realize this could have easily been her. I press my lips to Grey's forehead. "Thank you." Grey unknowingly saved Lucille's life that day.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N We got the second part of the backstory today. Quite the shocker in some aspects. Still no confirmation as to whether or not "Baby" is Lucille, so I'm going to keep going with it. This story is obviously A/U because there's an OC, but I will still try and stay as true to the comic as I can.**

* * *

"There. You fucking happy now, kid?"

Carl slouches in his chair. "I guess I see why you hate cops."

"Coincidence, but even I can admit that Prick isn't half the monster Blythe was. Speaking of, you better scamper along before Papaw Grimes finds you.

"Wait... th- that's it? Well, what the hell happened? Did Grey make it? Did you kill Blythe? You still didn't explain what happened to Lucille!"

"Shit happened, okay?"

"Ya know, if you don't talk about the people you care for, they might as well be dead."

"They **are** dead."

"But they don't have to be. They can live on through us."

"That's the stupidest fucking thing I have ever hea- okay, story time is fucking over." I realize there's really no place to go to escape him, so I get up and move to the other side of the bed so my back faces him.

"You're an idiot. Just because you turn around doesn't make you invisible."

"Fuck off, kid. I'm motherfucking warning you."

* * *

"You having wives makes a lot more sense."

"Does it now?"

"Well, yeah. You can be with three, four, five women, but they have to be faithful to you."

"I just wanted to be able to fuck a whole bunch of women."

"I didn't buy that shit last year when you told me, and I don't buy it this year. You loved Lucille, but you wanted Grey, too."

"God, you're fucking annoying!"

"My dad isn't going to be around forever, and when he goes, they'll be demanding your blood."

"That sounded like a threat."

"Take it as you will. I'm going to the Hilltop for a few days."

Good. Maybe then I'll get some peace and fucking quiet.

* * *

 _God, I miss you. What if you don't fucking wake up?_

I open my eyes when my body jerks awake. Damn. That dream felt so real. My days are starting to run together again. This reminds me of the days before Sanctuary, when all you could do was survive. Except this is anything but survival. I've never been so goddamn lazy in my life.

"Well?"

"Not today, kid. I ain't in the fucking mood." Maybe I looked real fucking distraught or some shit, or maybe he just got tired of asking. Either way, he didn't come back for months. Carl had been talking a lot about training alongside Earl. A blacksmith at the Hilltop. I figured that's where he had been until one day he just showed up.

"Last chance. I'm leaving in a couple of days for the Hilltop. What happened with Lucille and Grey?"

"It ain't a love story. Far fucking from it."

"Oh."

I'm not usually one for silence, but I just can't seem to find the words.

"Grey didn't wake up from her coma?"

"She woke up two days after Lucille left for her sisters."

"That's a good thing!"

"No. It ain't. Knowing what I know now, I wish she would have just stayed asleep in that bed."


	7. Chapter 7

I take a deep breath, opening my eyes. Sleeping in the hospital chairs has fucked my back so I'm slow to sit up right. My lips part when I see a small piece of the cheesecake is gone. "Grey!" Her name gets caught in my throat.

Her slate eyes slowly shift over to me.

Before she can even say anything, my arms are around her. "Fuck. I'm so goddamn glad you're awake," I choke.

She lets out a painful whine.

"Shit, sorry!"

Her fingers curl around one of mine.

There's a million things I want to ask her, but the last thing she needs right now is a roster of questions. I just want to hear her voice though.

She's sluggish to set her fork on the tray.

"I'll go get the nurse." I patiently wait outside the room, watching in the window. What I thought would be something brief, took hours. I grab a bite to eat in the cafeteria and it might have just saved my ass. Blythe is talking with the Doctor when I return. I keep back some, listening to the conversation. It's not even about Grey.

Blythe doesn't stick around long.

I follow him to make sure he's actually leaving.

He stops and observes the parking lot.

I learned my lesson and outsmarted this motherfucker by parking in the lot across the street. When he finally leaves, I head back to Grey to find her asleep. Shit. I, once again, return to my spot in the chair and wait for her to wait up. There's a Red Sox game on tonight that I guess I'll watch. Never thought I'd feel ambivalent about baseball. Even though the volume is down, it still disturbs her.

"Oh," Grey smiles when she leans over and sees me.

Her surprise tells me that she was just faking being asleep, and thought I was him. Goddammit. Fuck him, I'm not letting him take this moment away. I have a seat on the bed. "Are you okay?"

"The nurses told me that you stayed by my side."

I wish she wouldn't ignore my concern. "I was worried about you."

"Don't be."

"What can I do for you?"

"Help me to the toilet," she laughs uncomfortably.

I wait in the doorway of the bathroom, but keep my back to her. Grey is so weak, I practically dragged her. Then again, she has been unconscious for two weeks. "You know, this place has pretty good food. I could order you something." I set her down in her bed, helping untangle her iv.

"You pulled my iv out!"

"Oh, shit, fuck! What the fuck do I do!"

"I'm just fucking with you, mate," she giggles.

"Fuck."

"Your face. That was priceless-"

I grab this woman by the cheeks and press my lips to hers. I'm slapped and shoved off her.

"What are you doing?!"

"Uh," I flush.

"Leave."

"I'm sorry. I'm just not thinking clearly."

"I won't tell you again."

"Grey-"

"Now!"

"Goddammit!"

* * *

"She's awake, dear."

I've been pacing outside of Grey's room for forty-five fucking minutes. I don't know why I just can't take no for a fucking answer, and barge in her room. "If you really want me to leave, I'll leave, and never bother you again. Okay, that's probably bullshit, I'll still bother you. I just want you to know, what I did yesterday was fucking stupid, and I'm sorry."

"What if Blythe saw us? Do you have any idea what he would do to you? This isn't a game, Negan."

"I know it's not a fucking game, Grey. It was a stupid mistake."

"Room 217?" Blythe asks the nurse.

Grey's eyes widen in terror. "Hide," she begs me.

The bathroom is the only thing I can think of. I don't even get a chance to close the door.

"You're awake?"

The surprise in his voice fuels my suspicion he put her here.

"Ugh, you look like shit without any makeup on."

What a motherfucker.

"Let me see your neck." Blythe lets out a grunt. "Frank is coming to get you and take you back home. I'm going to Mexico to finish this deal."

"Will you postpone it for a few days? I need some help getting around."

"Your legs aint broken, woman, goddamn. Jesus. I don't think you think about the shit that you say. Want me to fucking feed you, too?"

"I'm sorry," she stammers.

"Yeah, you're always fucking sorry. Change the goddamn record."

I hear his boots scuff across the floor, and then he's gone. "What the fuck was that about?"

She gives me a weak smile. "He's under a lot of stress right now."

He's about to be six feet under.

"You should go before Frank comes."

"What-the-fuck-ever, Grey."

...

I've been stewing in my chair as I stare out the window like a goddamn madman. I haven't seen that Frank cocksucker except to drop Grey off, only to speed off after shoving her in the door. Fuck it, I'm going to see her. The window of her bedroom opens up easy enough.

"You scared me," Grey gasps, as she sits at the end of the bed.

I know it ain't my fucking place, but I have to say something. "What kind of man leaves his wife home alone?"

"I told you, he's under a lot of stress."

"Yeah. Stress. Stress like his wife almost dying from falling down the steps?"

"Why are you being condescending? I **fell**."

"Because, Grey, fuck! He's going to kill you! What is it going to take for you to wake the fuck up and see-"

"Get out."

This is what I didn't want. "Don't make me leave, again. I have been a fucking wreck these last two weeks."

"You have to stop accusing Blythe of being this monster."

"I'm just saying, if you were **my** wife, I'd never leave your side."

"I'm not your wife, and you haven't left my side."

I sink my hands into my pockets. "I was worried about you," I shrug.

"Why?"

"Because you're my friend."

"Now who's full of shit?"

"What do you want me to say? You're married."

"Yet here you stand."

"He shouldn't have left you is what I'm getting at. Not when you can't even walk. So, yeah, here I motherfucking stand. Let me help you, Grey."

"What if he finds out?"

"He won't. It's just us. Frank hasn't been back, and Blythe's all the way in Mexico. Just one night, Grey."

Her slate eyes move up my torso. "I- I suppose… one night."

"Really?"

"You just remember what you signed up for."

"So, do you want a back massage or some shit?"

"I want a bath."

"Are you fucking with me? Like the iv thing?"

"No. Come on now."

Oh, shit… "A, uh, a bath?"

"Yes. You know, with water and soap."

"I- I know what a bath is."

"Having second thoughts about helping me?"

Holy fuck me, no! "I'll suffer through it," I shrug. Yeah, play it cool, motherfucker.

She raises her arms for me to pick her up.

I set this woman on the ledge of the bathtub. "Uh, wh- ah-" I redden when she drops her shirt to the floor and run the fuck from the room.

...

"Negan?"

Oh, fuck me, she's really naked in that goddamn tub. I get her a towel, and realize there is no way around this. "Sorry," I flush, lowering the towel in front of my dick.

"No, I'm embarrassed. I didn't think and put you in this awkward situation."

"I just," I sigh heavily, and help her from the tub.

"You what?"

"I really want to fuck you, Grey." I can't fucking believe that just crawled from my mouth.

She actually takes it rather well. "I'm flattered."

"You are?"

"Well, of course. You're the whole package." Her eyes briefly glance at my arousal.

I lean in to press my lips to hers but I'm pushed back.

"It can't happen."

"He'll never find out."

She wraps the towel tighter. "It's complicated."

"I'll let you dry off." I go stand in front of the window, wishing I could leap out of it because of what a jackass I've acted like. The poor girl can barely walk and I'm trying to put her into the wall for Christ's sake.

"Negan," she calls again.

I find her slumped against the sink. "It's okay, I've got you." She's light in my arms, not that I thought she'd be heavy, I just don't understand how her frail body can withstand all of Blythe's abuse.

"Thank you."

"Are you hungry?"

"Duh."

Grey and I order eighty-six dollars worth of Chinese takeout, and I'm certain one of us will still be hungry before the night is over. "Thought you might have lost your appetite." I hand her the little carton.

"I've got a lot to make up for. Fork?"

Did she just ask me to fuck?

She extends her small finger outward.

Oh, fork. "Here."

"I can't use these things."

"It's not that hard," I laugh, situating the chop sticks in her hand.

She lets out a frustrated groan and drops one, using the other to stab the piece of beef. "Perfect."

When she asks me what else I got, I just laugh at her. Goddamn, I missed this.

...

"I'll be back first thing in the morning."

"Alright. Thank you again."

I'm half way out the window when she calls my name. I have a seat next to her.

"Stay."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Grey."

"Please?"

"I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."

"Fine, you bastard. You win." She nudges my head to the side before her lips press against mine.

I freeze, waiting for her to pull away, but she deepens the kiss. Holy fuckedy! I slip off her wedding ring, dropping it to the floor. "Fuck him. You're mine tonight," I growl, reclaiming those rouge lips.

She tugs some on my shirt.

I pull it over my head, not even sure where it lands.

Her eyes trail up my torso. "I didn't realize how massive your body was."

"Say body again."

"Body."

"That's so fucking hot. I hope you're a talker in bed. You know what'd be fucking hot? Let me fuck you while you order us a pizza."

"What do you want on it?" She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. "I like sausage on mine."

"I've got your sausage right here."

"Yeah? Meat lovers **is** my favorite."

"I hope you like extra sauce, too."

"Will you clean up what runs down my chin?"

"Goddamn, woman, I think I'm in love."

"So we're ordering pizza, or?"

I reach for the phone on the night stand, setting it on the bed. "Here." I hand her the receiver and quickly dial the number.

She lets go of it and curls her fingers around my shoulders.

I scoot her shirt up some, freeing those perfect tits. Fuck me. I remember first thinking they could be bigger, but they're fucking incredible.

"Are you just going to stare?"

"Maybe…" I've never seen skin so pale, yet equally flushed. "I'll be real fucking gentle," I smirk, brushing my lips to her skin.

"Oh," she moans.

Okay, fuck this. I force her arms above her head.

"Negan," she cries, tensing up.

"Oh, Christ, I'm so fucking sorry!"

She whines in pain, cradling her arm.

"Shit! What do I do?"

"Calm yourself."

Good fucking plan. Now if only I had done that shit last fucking year. Christ, what a disa-fucking-ppointment. I tug her shirt down some, then cover her lower half with the blanket. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Yeah? You gonna let me slug you back?"

"Sure. I deserve it."

"You do, you big jerk."

I lie next to her, letting her put her head on my chest. "Want me to make it up to you another way?" I tug on her panties some.

"No. I've wanted you for a long time, too. Best save it."

"No shit?"

"Really? I thought it was obvious."

"It's the baseball pants, right?"

"Yes. Definitely."

"Damn, I knew I should have brought those." I can't fucking believe this woman wants me, too, but in some weird way, it kinda disappoints me.

"Maybe we could try again in the morning?"

Shit, what the hell am I doing? She's married! Fuck, I'm married! I can't bring myself to answer her.

Grey traces her fingers on my stomach. "Why didn't you ever get married?"

"Who'd wanna marry me?" I'm starting to feel guilty about these questions.

"You're not a bad man."

I'm a terrible fucking person.

"I wish we'd met sooner."

No. You don't. I'd probably do the same thing to you as I'm doing to Lucille. I still her hand because she shouldn't be touching me like this. I don't belong to her, and she needs to know that. Why is it so fucking hard though? I don't even know this woman! Yeah, fucking right. I'm an idiot for getting this close to her. "Grey, I'm married." Silence isn't really what I expected. "Grey?" I tilt my head down some.

She's softly snoring.

"Fuck," I murmur. Maybe I didn't get a chance to tell her, but this ain't fucking right. I'm ending this. Now. I am way too fucking close to this woman. This is fucking crazy. I mean, I'm in her goddamn bed for Christ's sake. I quietly get dressed and take her in one last time before I slip out the window. I'll think of something to do about Blythe, but in the meantime… **goodbye**.

* * *

Way to fucking keep your distance, dumbass. I'm sure she was confused when she woke up this morning. I know I said I had to end this, but I'm worried about what he's going to do to her. I open the blinds behind the TV and flip on the game. I know that it's fucking weird, but Grey is outside on her swing reading. Ever since the hospital, I don't trust Blythe and I know he fucking put her there. That conversation just confirmed it. Lucille's ex used to beat the fuck out of her, so I know a little something about the signs. I should have seen it sooner, maybe I could have done something about it and protected Grey.

Blythe pulls up to the house and slams his squad car door shut.

I sit up some as my grip on my beer tightens.

He pulls Grey up from the swing by her arm in the cast.

From here I can see the look of pain on her face. The can falls from my hand as I charge from the house. I kick Blythe's door in and find Grey unconscious in a pool of blood.

I'm hit on the back of the head with a gun as it disorients me, then it's aimed at me.

Blythe calls dispatch on his radio, giving them some number.

"Grey," I call.

"You shut the fuck up, or I'll put this on you. Forced entry and assault. How do you think the school will feel knowing one of their coaches is a woman beater? I imagine it won't go over well for you."

"Fuck you."

"On your knees or we can pile on resisting arrest."

Another squad car pulls up and a deputy, I'm sure is on Blythe's payroll, comes into the house.

It ends up being that Frank fuck. "Gonna need two pairs, Blythe."

"I should break your goddamn arm," Blythe tells me, handing over his hand cuffs to the deputy. "Take him to the station. I'll be there in a minute."

I didn't care about my record, or any of that bullshit. I fear for Grey's life after I'm taken from the house.

...

I pace furiously back and forth until Blythe steps in front of the cell.

"Did you fuck my wife?"

"No."

"Did you... fuck my wife?"

"Grey can't even look me in the eyes because she's fearful you're right around the corner."

"Good. Took me a long time to train her."

"You motherfucking motherfucker."

"You don't realize how bad I could make your life right now."

"Fuck you."

"I want you to know that I'm going to go home and beat the living fuck out of her, and every time you come near her, she's going to get it again. When it kills her, I'm going to pin the murder on you. All the time you two spend together, it's plausible you killed her because she refused to leave me."

Frank starts to laugh with Blythe.

"Did you really think you were going to touch my wife without there being consequences? You stupid hillbilly fuck."

"I think he loves her. Look at his face."

"Grey warned you that night you snuck into my house. Frank, what was it this sorry fuck said when she told him?"

"Oh, he said," Frank puffs out his chest, "you let me fucking deal with him."

"Yeah. He's gonna fucking deal with me alright. Leave him locked up. Grey and I have a date tonight," Blythe snickers.

"No," I beg. I have never begged another human being before. "Please, don't fucking hurt her."

"Please, don't hurt her," Frank mocks.

"I swear to Christ I'll leave her alone."

"Oh, there it is, Sheriff."

"I knew it. Put a bullet in him if he tries to get out. That fucking bitch is dead!"

"No!" God, no, this isn't happening!


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N If you have not read "Here's Negan" this chapter will spoil it. I'm going to cover issue 1, 2, and parts of 3. Thanks for the feedback on the last chapter!**

* * *

 _Bury your name, forget your face. Oceans of Grey._

* * *

"I'll do anything," I beg Blythe.

"Want me to put that bullet in him?"

"Wait." Blythe cocks his head over his shoulder. "Anything?" His lip slowly starts to creep upward.

"A- anything." I know what this means. He's going to take what I love the most. Coaching.

Blythe gets a sheet of paper and pen, handing it through the bars. "You write up your resignation, I'll let you go."

"And Grey?"

Blythe lets out a snicker.

"I want your fucking word, goddammit."

"You'll really give up your career for her?"

"Yes."

"Give me your resignation."

I shake my head no because he's not going to do shit. "Go fuck yourself."

Frank pulls out his revolver.

"Not yet," Blythe snarls before whipping his head back to me. "You're going to resign, or I will start with Grey, and end with Lucille."

"Th- that's my wife!"

"Now he's got a wife. Funny. I don't see a ring. Lucille told me about your arrangement that day when she was begging me for my cock."

"Fuck you, you motherfucking motherfucker, fuck you!"

"I will make your life a living hell if you don't do what I want. Grey knows that all too well."

Fuck! Fine. Fine, what fucking choice do I have? "Here. You fucking win."

"Open the cell door."

"I'm going to fucking kill you."

Blythe closes the cell door before I can get out. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Speak up."

"Mark my words."

"No, you won't," Blythe simpers. "Your best fucking chance is right now." He sizes me up and down. "Leave him locked in the cell tonight. Grey's going to pay for that remark."

"No," I scream, wrapping my fingers around the bars. "No!"

* * *

I set my box of trophies on my workbench in the garage. The school didn't take my resignation well, and truthfully, neither am I.

"Dinner."

"Yeah," I murmur, covering the trophies with a paint tarp.

"You'll find something else, Baby."

I don't want something else.

"Hello? Yes, just a second." Lucille brings the phone receiver down some. "It's for you."

The voice on the other end isn't what I expected.

"Word around town is the head coach quit the Devil's today," Blythe snickers.

I'm two seconds from ripping the phone cord out of the wall and strangling him with it. At least if I kill him, my girls would be safe, and he'd be fucking dead.

"The middle school is looking for a gym teacher. You start Monday." The phone clicks, and the line goes dead.

"I'm not fucking hungry." I drop the receiver at my feet, and slam the front door. I have to actively tell myself not to kill this motherfucker. Who actually has to talk themselves into not killing someone? I weigh the pros and cons of his death before giving up to go for a ride on my bike instead.

* * *

I used to get respect when I went around town. Now I'm treated like a fucking joke. The Devil's didn't go to state for the first time since I started with the school. I couldn't bring myself to go to the games, so I did all the things a miserable fuck husband would. I hate my life.

* * *

"Surprise," Lucille smiles, flipping on the garage light.

"Wow." A ping-pong table.

"You just seem so down, and you're starting to make a rut in the couch."

"This is fucking awesome!" This… this is just what I need!

"I'll play a few games with you."

"I **do** like it when you smack my balls."

"Yeah? Maybe I'll have you bend over the table and try out this paddle."

"I love it when you talk dirty."

* * *

I open the bathroom door to Lucille face first in the toilet. "Are you alright?"

"I thought I was pregnant. I've been sick to my stomach for the last few days, but the test says negative." The test is sitting on the sink.

"Do you want me to take you to the Doctor?"

"No. It's probably just the flu."

That don't seem like the fucking flu to me, but she's shoving me out of the door before I can think any more about it.

* * *

For the first time in almost a year, I finally have a sense of self-worth again. The middle school is starting a baseball program. Ironically, Blythe helped fund most of the cost for the uniforms and equipment. I don't know what his intentions are, but fuck it if it means I get to coach baseball again.

* * *

I smack the ping-pong ball over one of my students as it bounces down the driveway. "You pull your pud that slow, fuckwit?! Game point! If I had a wrist that weak, I'd need three pictures of your mom to blow my load. Now, which one of you little pricks is next?"

The three of them look at me like I've lost my goddamn mind before Josh bolts from the garage.

"Sorry, Coach Negan. Josh has always been kind of a pussy. I'll try to calm him down."

"Fuck." I ease down on my recliner. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck."

...

Lucille ain't fucking happy and rips me a new one when she walks into the garage. "What the fuck, Negan? You're a role model to these kids. I've got their parents on the phone saying you cussed them out?!"

"Only one of them! And I was just messing with them." Jesus, the high school fuckers never used to get this bent out of shape about my mouth.

"Have you lost your mind? The school is going to fire you."

Well. It wouldn't be the worst fucking thing. "These kids aren't going to respect me if I have a stick up my butt outside of the school. I have to be the cool teacher. You should hear the shit they say!"

"Yeah, but they're not-" Lucille's eyes roll back in her head as she collapses to the pavement.

"Baby?! Baby?!" I rush to her side and grab her by the cheeks. "Oh, god! Wake up. Wake up!"

"She, okay?" The neighbor asks.

"Call nine-one-one," I shout.

* * *

Deja-goddamn-vu as I hold Lucille's hand waiting for her to wake up. I can't even keep track of all the testing they're doing on her. Poking and prodding. Taking blood. X-rays. Fuck. I just want a goddamn answer! I think when she wakes up that this is all behind us, but I'm fucking wrong.

"I'm afraid I have some very unfortunate news. There's no easy way to say this…"

When the Doctor tells us Lucille has cancer, I go fucking numb. Jesus, no! Not my Lulu.

"I'm sorry," he frowns, leaving the two of us.

"Cancer?" Lucille sobs.

I pull her in my arms. "You're going to beat this."

* * *

"Negan, stop, just leave me alone," Lucille gripes, slamming the bathroom door in my face.

It scares the fuck out of me because, in my mind, it tells me that Lucille is giving up. That she doesn't want to fight the cancer, and this is her way of creating a distance between the two of us so that I'll take it better when she passes away. I'm finally here for her, and she doesn't want a thing to fucking do with me.

* * *

This shed is a goddamn mess. What have these little fuckers been doing when I tell them to put this shit away?

"Coach Negan?"

I take in a quick breath and spin around. "Grey, get the fuck out before someone sees you!"

"He threatened you, didn't he?"

I give her a nod.

"I'm sorry, I never meant to get you involved. I'm so stupid..."

I close the door behind her, claiming her lips.

She doesn't resist, and curls the fabric of my jersey between her fingers.

I shove the metal basket to the floor and put her on the table as the baseball's scatter everywhere. "I could keep you safe." I pull open her blouse, pressing my lips to her cleavage.

Her hands run up the front of my chest and curl over my shoulders.

I start to unbutton my pants, but my hand is pulled to her. Oh, fucking fuck me.

Her big eyes take in my wedding ring. "You're married!?"

Fuck! "Grey, I know I'm married, but hear me out. We have an open relationship."

"You are so full of shit!" She hops from the table, frantically buttoning up her blouse.

"I'm telling you, it's okay!"

"An open relationship?" She slaps me across the face twice. "I thought what we had was real."

"It is real!"

"Yeah? The three of us going to run away together?"

"I love her, Grey, but then I have these feelings for you-"

"I should have listened to the other teachers when they talked about you, but I thought-"

"Fuck them! I sure as fuck never felt anything for them."

"Because that makes me feel better. You're married!"

"She is everything to me, and you are, too-" I'm slapped again.

"Your poor wife. What is **wrong** with you?"

"What do you do when you find two people-"

"Stop talking!"

"Grey!"

"How could you not tell me you're married?"

"I- I-"

"You're disgusting."

"I'm disgusting? You're one to talk! You're fucking married, too."

"Yes, but I was honest with you!"

I reach out and take her arm when she goes to leave the shed.

She cries out in pain, leaning her shoulder inward.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I grabbed you that hard!" She tries to sling her arm away, but I keep my grip on her wrist, and slowly start to push up her sleeve.

His hand print is bruised on her.

"I know what you're thinking, but who would even listen to me? He's the Sheriff."

"…he didn't keep his word."

"What are you talking about?"

"I resigned from the High School in exchange for your safety."

"Why would you do that for me?"

"You wouldn't do something about it, so I had to. You sit there and condone his abuse because there's some part of you that thinks he can change. He's not, and he's going to fucking kill you."

"You have no grounds to give me relationship advice."

"Yeah, well, let me commend you on your loyalty to your husband."

"You've sacrificed your career and for what? Blythe wasn't hurting anyone!"

"Except you!"

"Stay away from me!"

"Why are you protecting him?"

"I don't expect you to understand."

"No! I want to fucking hear this, and you ain't leaving until I do!"

"My father was not a good man. The things he did to my sisters and me are indescribable. Blythe killed him, and saved me from that life. If I have to take a few beatings every now and then, so be it."

"Then all you did was turn around and marry your father! Saving you doesn't grant him immunity from being an abhorrent piece of shit!" I shut the door when she tries to leave. "Look, I get it, I should have fucking told you about Lucille, but goddammit, Grey, don't fucking walk out of here. Don't let this be the last time we speak. I know you're fucking angry, but you're angry because I hurt you. When Lucille and I made this arrangement, I figured I'd have a good time. I'd fuck you and be done with it. Move on to someone else, like I always have, but here we are two years later."

"Negan, I'm warning you. If you don't stay away from me, he will come after you."

I never wanted to force guilt on her, and it wasn't that I was trying to do that. "He already has. He threatened Lucille, too."

Grey sobs into her hands. "No. Oh, god what have I done?"

"You didn't do anything, and that's the problem. Don't sit around and wait for him to kill you, because I promise he will." I grab the door knob and open it so she can leave.

"I'm sorry," she cries, before she hurries from the shed.

* * *

My jaw hits the floor when I walk into the house.

Grey is on my couch talking with Lucille.

"H- hey," I stammer, closing the front door. Grey had told Lucille everything, including what happened in the shed yesterday. I listen to Lucille explain to Grey about our arrangement, and when Lucille told Grey that she had cancer, Grey cried for twenty minutes. In fact, Grey was inconsolable. Like she had caused Lucille's cancer. What I didn't expect is Lucille condoning what Grey and I had.

"I don't have much time left," Lucille smiles faintly, "and he'll need someone to take care of him."

I sit in the chair with my face in my hands. There's just some things a man doesn't fucking do. Crying is one of them. Hearing that Lucille is giving up, I might as well just fucking die with her. "I won't listen to this shit," I scream, punching a hole in the wall.

* * *

I've been watching the ceiling fan spin for two hours. I didn't go to work today, I didn't even call in. If Lucille is going to give up, so am I. Someone once told me, you don't live for someone else, because when they die, so do you. I wish I would have heeded their advice.

"So that's it, huh? You're just going to lie there feeling sorry for yourself?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Just let me quietly slip away, it's just easier."

"That's not what I want, Lulu."

"You get to be with Grey."

"At what cost? I don't want that. **I just want you**."

"Well, you're not going to have that for very long."

"I'm out of here."

"Negan," Lucille calls after me. "Negan, Blythe is going to kill Grey."

"What?" I start back up the steps.

"It's what I went through with my ex. Blythe is doing the same thing to her. Negan, we have to do something."

"I don't know what to do."

"She said you gave up coaching to protect us from Blythe. Baby, you should have told me."

"And say what?"

"I don't know."

What a fuckshow this has become.

"I have an idea. What if we bought her a plane ticket, and sent her back to Australia?"

"You think that would work?"

"We have to be smart about it though. That girl you used to mess around with. Karen? She could take Grey to the airport. That way Blythe won't be suspicious of us."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's a good motherfucking idea."

"I'll call the airlines then, and let Grey know the plan."

I catch her by the wrist. "Lucille, you'd do that?"

"Yes."

"I love you so fucking much."

* * *

Blythe had a meeting with the Mayor Tuesday morning. We knew that'd be the best time to get Grey out of the country. Watching her say goodbye to Lucille was difficult. I am the luckiest man in the world to have a wife like Lucille, and to know that she's so accepting of Grey.

Karen met us on the street behind our house.

"I don't want to say goodbye," Grey cries.

"This is the only way you'll be safe."

She clings to my neck as she sobs against my shoulder.

I know the only way she'd leave is if I told her what she wanted to hear. Lying always came easy to me. This was one lie that about crippled me. "I'll find you. If it's the last thing I do. I'll find you, Grey." I fiercely press my lips to hers for a brief second before slamming the car door shut.

Her slate eyes stare up at me through the window. "I love you, Negan," she mouths.

"No," I yell, as the car speeds off.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N This chapter is particularly gruesome and dismal. Also, the rest of issue 3 is covered in this chapter, but I wrote a lot of this chapter before issue 3 so let's just say the story is completely AU from here on out.**

* * *

Blythe starts across the street, almost getting hit by a car as he walks across it. "Where's my wife?" He screams at me.

"Oh. Now he's married." I prayed Blythe would pull his gun on me, because then I might have some ground to have him arrested when the neighbor witnesses it. My eyebrows furrow when this fucker actually drops to his knees and starts to sob.

"Oh, god, no," he chokes. "Grey!"

"Get it to-fucking-gether, man!"

Blythe grabs the front of my pants. "Help me find her, please. I- I'm not right without her."

I shove him off of me as he rolls around on the pavement. Now, why I thought it would be a bad idea if this motherfucker shot himself is beyond fucking me, but I pull the gun out of his mouth as it fires into the concrete. If anyone is going to kill him, it's going to be me.

Blythe lies still for a moment, before he pushes himself up into a sitting position. "I knew if I beat her into submission like her father, she'd never leave me and do whatever I say."

"You're a fucking coward. Calling yourself a man is a fucking joke."

"Maybe that's why she never told me that she loved me."

"Really? Because the last thing Grey ever said to me was that she loved me." It's a stupid thing to say on my part, but I don't give a fuck. This cocksucker has taken everything away from me, and once Lucille goes, I'll have nothing left to fucking lose.

The look on his face is horrifying.

"Have a nice day, Blake," I simper, walking back into the house.

* * *

People started seeing me in a different light. They took my resignation as me wanting to spend more time with Lucille because of the cancer. It was gratifying to have that feeling again. The feeling that I'm the king dick motherfucker. Still, it didn't change the fact Lulu's days were numbered. She lost all of her hair when the treatment started. It was difficult to watch because I had made the comment that I hated her hair short, and I feared that played over in the back of her mind.

Lucille was always the strong one, and a lot of times it seemed like she was telling me to suck it up. "Stop it. Not here. You're making a scene."

Pretty bad when your wife has to tell you to stop crying like some little girl.

* * *

Sometimes I'd end up in a daze thinking about Grey. I just kept wondering if she was okay. I got my answer two weeks later when I received a postcard in the mail. It's addressed to Darkness. My heart is beating so fucking fast. The sender is Lily. Our movie! She's okay. That's all I wanted to know. In a way, it helps me move on. Helps me close that chapter of us. Or, rather, it should have closed it. I missed her so much.

* * *

"You're hurting me, stop, please," Lucille cries.

"Lucille?" I haul ass up my steps when I hear her whimper again. Nothing prepares you for when you open your bedroom door and find your wife being raped. "You motherfucker," I scream, tackling her ex from my bed. I stick both thumbs in his eye sockets, going as far into his worthless skull as I can force them. I've never killed a man before, yet all I can think about is why I didn't do it sooner. So it didn't have to come to this point. I take the book she's been reading from the dresser and bludgeon his balls until there's just a bloody puddle. Then the book is cast to the side. "You wanna fucking touch **my** wife?" His face becomes a speed bag for my own personal amusement. I watch his worthless life start to fade from his eyes, and all you can hear is the hard packing noises as I continued to deliver each blow.

"Negan, please," Lucille cries, tugging on my arm.

Her voice snaps me back into reality. I yank the sheet from the bed, and wrap it around her.

"Is anyone hurt," several voices shout from down stairs.

How did I get such morbid amusement from this that I didn't realize she called the cops?

Blythe folds his arms and looks down at what's left of Lucille's ex.

Frank stands beside him with a smug look on his face. "What do we have here, Sheriff?"

Oh, god, no, please don't fucking do this to me. I swallow hard, moving Lucille closer to me.

Blythe turns his attention at me, then at Frank. "Home invasion."

There was no doubt in my mind that Blythe was going to pin this on me, and when he didn't, I'm speechless.

"Let them have some privacy, and get this shithead out of the room," Blythe tells the others. "Frank, take them to the station when they're ready." Blythe looks back at me after the others have left. "I'll take care of everything."

He is the last person that should have helped me.

...

"Negan," Lucille whispers.

I've been on the edge of the bed in a daze for hours. His blood still stains my fingers and face. "I should have protected you."

"You did protect me."

Maybe it was a culmination of everything. I just sit there and sob.

Lucille cleans his blood from me.

When she starts on my face, I stand up and go in the shower.

She joins me, something she's always been against. Maybe she sensed that it would be our last night together.

I sure fucking didn't.

* * *

"Something's burning," I tell Lucille, turning off the stove. Where the fuck is she? "Lul-" Oh, fuck! No! "Lucille, wake up." I shake her. I pick her limp body up off the couch and run ten blocks to the hospital. "Help me," I scream at the nurses. This isn't happening! "Help her!"

"Sir, you have to wait outside."

"Lucille, no!"

...

I cling to Lucille's frigid hand.

"Go home. There's nothing you can do for me here."

"You're going to fucking beat this. Okay? Stop all this goddamn negative thinking. You're like a health ninja who's going to broadsword the fuck out of this cancer… you're going to…"

"You're off your game. Ninja's don't use broadswords."

"I need you to know that you are everything to me. I'm not perfect… hell, I'm a fucking piece of dog shit. You deserve so much better. Did I do this to you? Did I fucking cause this? If I had been there for you… and not… if I didn't… would you have been strong enough to fight this?" I'm interrupted by the alarm on one of the machines.

"Ne-" Lucille's eyes fixate in place.

And just like that… Everything I love is gone. Gone because of some bullshit illness. Gone, and there is nothing that I can motherfucking do.

...

The thing about a small town is, nothing is sacred. Word spread about Lucille's death at such an alarming rate, I didn't even make it out of the hospital before I'm bombarded with well wishes. I don't want your fucking condolences. Why am I the one they are concerned about? Fuck this. I won't have people talk about my wife like this. I run back to her room only to find she's not there. No. No, why did they… I sink to my knees and press my hand to the cool linoleum. No one bothered me for hours. Maybe they didn't realize I was even here. Maybe I'm just that goddamn pathetic. My knees are shaky, and when I try to get to my feet, I collapse. Lucille!

...

"Sign here, and here," the funeral director points.

 **No**. **Fuck you**.

"Now did you say you were having her cremated?"

"I'm not going to fucking burn my wife," I snap. It's the first time I've said anything since her death. I hang my head, shaking it side to side. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I understand."

No, you fucking don't understand, and that apology wasn't meant for you. It was for **her**. There's all these options of caskets. This is the last fucking thing I'll ever do for her, and I can't even afford to get her something nice! Just some bottom of the barrel generic fucking piece of shit. Like me. Guess she should be used to me disappointing her.

He silences his phone after the third time in two minutes that it rings. "Take your time."

I just want to get this fucking shit over with. When you get married, you don't think that ten years into it you're going to be burying your wife.

"Look, we can make the arrangements in a few days. Go home and collect your thoughts."

I wouldn't need to collect my thoughts if I would have been a better man to my wife.

...

The whole goddamn town has lost their fucking mind. It takes me almost 40 minutes to get home. I'm so fucking numb as I stand in the doorway of our home.

"We interrupt regular broadcasting at the request of the-"

I hit the button on the TV and unplug my phone. The bed smells like her, so I crawl in my bathtub instead. It's my last perfect memory of us. There's a few sleeping pills I chase with half a bottle of whisky. It might be my last memory, too.

* * *

 **A/N This chapter, and the one that will follow it were originally one chapter, but I didn't want to take away from Lucille's death and that's why I chose to end it here. Despite the tone, this chapter and the next one are actually my favorites because it shapes Negan in so many ways.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Alright, this story from here on out is completely A/U. I'm going forth without the comic. I've also changed the rating on this story to an M. Thank you to everyone who has left a review! It really means a lot to me. Pierce through the heart, feel free to call me Red! (or anyone else. 217 is the room in Stephen King's book 'The Shining', so, yeah, it is a weird name if you think about it, lol.)**

* * *

 _My smile was taken long ago, if I can change I hope I never know._

* * *

The power is out when I get up. It's like an oven in this house. I can hear the rumbling of the thunder in the distance. Must have been a storm or some shit. I pull a pack of lunch meat from the fridge and sit down with the rest of the milk before it goes bad. It sounds like the fucking Fourth of July. Shit, what day is it? No, it can't be.

...

I look over my wedding ring, then pull Lucille's from my pocket. There's so much that needs to be done. I can't do this shit on my own. She'd know- the fuck is that noise? Are those gunshots? It sounds like it's coming from right outside. What the fuck is going on!? I set both of our rings on her end table. Where's that fucking weather radio? I find it in the garage and set it on my workbench, trying to pick up a signal. It comes in alright. Loud and motherfucking clear.

" _We interrupt regular broadcasting at the request of the Federal Emergency Management Agency. At 5:06 PM eastern standard time, an unknown virus has spread throughout the city of Baltimore. The area and surrounding areas are being evacuated. Please stand by for further evacuation instructions. If you believe anyone has the following symptoms-"_

"What the fuck?" I'm still asleep. I know I fucking am. An unknown virus? What the fuck does that even mean? Is that what Lucille had? Is that what took my Lulu?! "Thank Christ," I sigh relieved when one of the neighbors is standing in the garage. "Did you hear that shit? Do they know what caused it? Holy fuck, you don't look so- whoa, fuck," I yell, when he reaches for me. "Get your fucking hands off me!" I shove him to the floor, but he keeps coming after me. "Knock it off! This shit ain't fucking funny!" I instinctively reach for one of my baseball bats in the garage and take a swing at him. Blood and teeth fly outward, hitting the wall along with my neighbor. "Oh, fuck. What have I done?" I've killed an innocent man! "Wake up," I yell, nudging him with the bat to the back. "Wake the fuck up!" When I hear the sounds of a police siren, I throw my hands up, but it speeds right past the house.

"Help," a disembodied voice screams.

If my neighbor didn't just try and pull this same shit with me, I wouldn't have believed my goddamn eyes. I guess even then I still don't as I witness a grown man eating this woman alive. The infected seem to go down if you hit them in the head a few times. I apply pressure to her neck. "It's okay," I tell her.

"Back away from the infected," a commanding voice instructs.

I glance over my shoulder to see several uniformed military men in gas masks.

"We will open fire."

"One of those fucking things bit her. She's going to die if we don't get her hel-" I lunge away from the woman as the men unload several rounds into my neighbor. "What the fuck?!"

The guns are turned on me.

"Check him for bites."

"Get your fucking hands off me!"

"Shit, shit," the men scream, firing shots at the infected behind them.

I'm not fucking waiting around to be shot, or mistaken for being infected. I hide in between two houses, watching something that can only be described as a movie take place in this front yard. When only the infected are left standing, I try my best to hide my bulky frame behind a trash can until they migrate elsewhere. I snatch up one of the soldier's radios and bolt for my house. I listen to that fucking radio, paralyzed on my chair, for hours. The virus turns people into something not of this world. If you're bit by them, you become one of the infected. Evacuation routes turned into goddamn warzones, because all it took was for one person to become infected, and it spread like a fucking wildfire. Right before the battery goes dead, they talk about an area of New York that will be the target of several airstrikes in an attempt to keep the virus at bay. People are killing people out of fear. I sit in my chair, gripping the bat I have tight between my fingers. If this is the end of the goddamn world, I have a few wrongs that need righted, and I know just who to fucking start with.

...

My baseball bat gets snagged on Frank's barbed wire fence. Even better. Something to tear his flesh from his bones. When I'm done wrapping the barb around the wood, my hands are a goddamn bloody mess, but I don't even feel the pain and kick open his front door. I'm shot in the hip, but the bullet just grazes me. I don't want to kill him. No. Not just yet, so I rear back and hit Frank in the ribs. "You wanna shoot at me you piece of shit?" I come down hard on his hands, even managing to rip off one of his ring fingers. "Yeah. You're gonna deal with me, motherfucker."

"Please, I was just doing what Blythe said."

"You dumb cocksucker, do you really think I give a fuck about your excuses? Do you think it's going to save you? You are the most cowardice piece of shit. Are you actually crying?" I lean in closer as a breathed laugh escapes my nose. "Guess Blythe really does have your balls. Let's find out."

"No, no," he screams.

"Hold fucking still. Oh. There they are." I take another swing. "Well. **Were**." I shouldn't be this jaunty about having this fuck's ball blood on my hands, but it is like being baptized. "That one was for Grey. For when you tried to grope her, you sick fuck. Now, get on the radio," I scream, pressing the tip of the bat to his throat. Wire starts cutting into his flesh. "You tell Blythe he's next."

"Bu-"

"Now!" I sink the wire further into his throat.

"Blythe, Negan is-"

"And this one's for me." I raise the bat and end his miserable existence with one forceful flog to his skull, hoping that Blythe can hear the sounds of his bones breaking before the radio went silent. I pry it from Frank's hands, and push in the button. "You hear that, Blythe? I'm coming for you next."

...

I kick in the front door, bringing the goddamn frame down with it. "Blythe," I bellow, shoving over the umbrella stand by the door. "Where the fuck are you?" I search this entire goddamn house from top to bottom, then start down the steps in the basement. Christ. I cover my nose with the crook of my elbow from the stench. My eyes start to water from the pungent vile odor. I trip over a chain in the basement, and when I do, a painful whimper comes from a dark corner. There's a flashlight that I click on after a few hits to the fucking thing, and follow the chain with the light. It coils around a small bloody foot. "Oh, god! Grey," I whine, dropping the flashlight and rushing to her side.

She was maybe 60 lbs. The sides of her brow were caved in where you could actually make out the shape of her skull. She's too weak to even acknowledge me.

Despite taking two pairs of testicles, watching my neighbor slain, and the front yard massacre I witness, what Blythe has done to Grey is far worse. I know if I don't do something for her right fucking now, she will die. It's not safe here, so I take her to my house. I hold her in one arm, and help her drink from the bottle of water. "Small sips." There's matted blood caked to the roots of her hair from some kind of trauma. The water is still on, and somewhat lukewarm. I can't tell if these are bruises or dirt on her body, and very carefully bathe this woman.

She sits slumped over the water.

I don't know if I'm causing this woman harm, or helping her. I choke back tears when I actually pull out a clump of her hair. Grey wasn't clothed when I found her, so I pull my Devil's jersey from my closet and put it on her when I'm done. "That's better. All… better…" I stammer, sweeping away my tears with the crook of my elbow. I'm worried that she won't have the strength to chew anything, so I strain a family sized can of chicken noodle soup and help her drink the broth. I wish she'd say something, give me some type of sign. I'm so goddamn scared as she sleeps curled beside me. Scared that she won't wake up. What if she has the virus, too?

* * *

After three days, there's still no change in Grey. Our food supply is depleted. I filled every fucking container we had in his house with water while it was still on, but even that goes quickly. If I leave Grey to go find food, and something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself.

My front door flings open.

It could have been a fucking girl scout, I'm not taking any goddamn chances, and fly up, swinging my bat right into the marauders skull. There's two others accompanying him that meet the same fate. "Bad enough I gotta fucking worry about people eating each other and you motherfuckers are going to break into my house?!" I drag their bodies to the porch, taking everything I can. At least my concern about food is over for now. They have several days' worth of food on them. Weapons. First aid. First aid! "Grey," I shout, hurrying back in the house. I don't know how much these antibiotics will do for her, but it's better than nothing. Grey sleeps some more while I take the time to board up a few places in my house.

...

"Negan."

I almost swallow the nail in my mouth, spitting it to the floor. "Grey?!" I hurry up the steps to my bedroom.

Her hand moves some across the bed.

I press my lips to her fingers. "I never should have let you fucking go. I'm so sorry, Grey."

"You found me," she smiles weakly.

"I want to touch you so bad, but you... you're..." I frown looking her frail condition over. "What happened, Grey?" I thought maybe she couldn't go through with leaving Blythe, but she really did make an effort to leave him.

"Karen took me two streets over. Blythe was waiting for me in his squad car. When I asked why, she said she wouldn't have you lusting after a woman that wasn't her."

I knew his little tantrum was all a façade. Now I wish I would have helped him pull the goddamn trigger. "I got a letter in the mail from you."

"I tried to make Blythe paranoid. To insinuate that you would come after him because it would only be a matter of time before you got suspicious. He said if I didn't find a way to rectify that he would, and Lucille would have a place right next to me."

"You protected my Lulu."

"Where… where is she?"

I drop my head. She holds me by the nape as I sob against her chest. As quick as it came on, I shut it off. I shut **everything** off. It's about survival now.

"Negan, you need to leave. I'm too weak."

"Were going to stay here until you can."

"I won't have you die for me."

"I can take care of my-fucking-self."

"Bullshit."

"Go back to sleep. You need your strength."

"Will you lay down with me?"

"No." I slam the door shut behind me.

* * *

I set my backpack on my bike, tightening it down. Grey never work up this morning. I stuff the postcard Grey sent in my pocket. Losing Lucille broke me. Losing Grey now, too? I'm inconsolable. If only I had taken the fucking time to lay down with her. To spend one more night with her. Did she give up for me? So that I could go on without her? I stand at the end of the driveway as the chaos briefly stills around me. There's a promise I made someone that needs fucking fulfillment. I'm going to find Blythe if it's the last motherfucking thing I do. I eye my barbed wrapped baseball bat lengthwise. "Lucille and I are coming for you, motherfucker."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N There's a panel in issue 152 that I absolutely love of Negan. He's in his cell, hunched over, with his head down. Arms folded over his knees. His eyes are blacked out, as is the majority of the cell. I wanted to incorporate that issue in this chapter. (Real quick, for those of you that don't read the comics, I made Negan recap what's going on more than usual so you're not lost.)**

* * *

Carl stares back at me wide eye. " **Fuck**."

"Yeah. Fuck."

"You just left her to die? Why didn't you put a bullet in her head?"

"I didn't know. The outbreak had just started."

"I guess I figured she lived, and was one of your wives."

"I told you it wasn't a love story, kid."

"You should have had two bats. An aluminum one named Grey. Ya know, because it's gray. Grey and gray," he chuckles.

I let out a breathed laugh. "That reminds me of a conversation Grey and I had once."

 _I like the sound of the aluminum bat._

 _Wait, what? The what?_

 _The sound of it._

 _The sound of what?_

 _The bat._

 _The wood bat?_

 _No, the aluminum bat._

 _I'd die a happy fucking man listening to you say that word over and over. I fucking love your accent._

"What did it sound like? You just did it in your stupid voice."

"Al-ah-min-e-um."

"I don't know why I asked. You sound like a leprechaun. Anyway, I need to get going."

"I'm telling you, it's fucking hot. She'd have to do it for-" My eyes sink. "You."

Carl returns to his seat when he sees my face. "I'm sorry."

"Doesn't matter, kid."

"Do you regret your last words to Grey?"

" **Every** fucking day."

"You had no way of knowing that would be the last time you'd speak to her."

"Is that an excuse?"

"You weren't in your right mind. Not after Lucille. To be honest, I don't think you ever will be. I don't even know how the guilt alone doesn't kill you."

"You better run along."

"I can stay longer if you wanna talk."

I turn around on the cot so my back is to him.

"That still doesn't do anything, ya know."

That's what I'm good at. Not doing anything.

* * *

The guilt would kill me, except I've shut that part of me off. Or so, that's the façade I've tried so hard to convey to my men. When you're alone twenty-four hours a day, in the dark, that façade starts to slowly seep out, and I question my sanity in this prison. I thought that losing Lucille and Grey was punishment enough. Now I have all this time to reflect on what a piece of shit I am. If I had been a better man, maybe Lucille would have tried harder to fight the cancer. If I had been a man, I would have killed Blythe sooner, so it didn't cost Grey her life. I whip my head to the right when the obnoxious stomps of some punk kid interrupts my train of thought. "Who the fuck are you?"

"My name is Brandon, and I'm getting you out of here." The keys to the cell hang loosely in his right hand.

"Kid, I don't know who the fuck you are, but I can tell you don't know fucking fuck all. I'm not fucking deaf. People have been milling about all day up there. We wouldn't get two feet before Rick shot us both."

"Yeah. That's it. There's a whole caravan gearing up for a trip back to the Hilltop. Dozens of people are leaving. We could slip out in the crowd… no one would notice."

"I don't mean to seem ungrateful, but… why the fuck would you attempt this?"

"You're the only person I can think of who might hate Rick Grimes as much as I do. There's a whole army of Whisperers out there… and they don't want us bothering them. Rick is gearing up for war with them and they have no idea. If we went and told them what was coming… they could attack and kill Rick and all these other assholes that live here. They'd kill them, they'd kill each other… whatever. I know I can't make it there alone. You can get me there… you're free to go… or maybe you come back here and kill Rick with the Whisperers… whatever you want."

"I'm not saying yes… but I ain't exactly saying no either. I'll tell you the truth… I like where you're going with this. Let me think about it."

He gives me a sour look.

Who am I fucking? There ain't nothing to think about. I want blood. It ain't Rick's. It ain't these Whisperer fucks. It ain't even Dwight's. I want to spend the rest of my days confined in the woods with Blythe tied up in **my** motherfucking basement. "Open this goddamn lock."

...

This little shit's plan actually worked. Fuck it. I'm not questioning how we got out alive. "They see you?"

"Probably thought I was ducking away for a piss. Nobody said anything."

"Probably in the clear. Hand it over." After two years, I'm starting to feel more human again as I zip up my leather jacket. "Felt naked without it." One of my favorite memories of Lucille.

Brandon also gives me my belt with my knife on it. "Hurry up. We gotta get moving."

"Excuse the fuck out of me? What was that?"

"The Whisperers. We gotta get to them."

"Oh, you didn't really think this through so much, did you?"

"What?"

"You're little plan. You get me out, I take you to the Whisperers so you can rat on Rick and his group. That part where you do something for me is fucking over. So why in the fuck would I bother doing that part where I help you? I appreciate you finding my jacket and things… but that only gets you so far."

"You hate Rick just as much as I do. You want this, too right?"

I want out of these goddamn woods for now. "Point me in the right direction, and shut the fuck up. I'm the one calling the shots now. Fall in line or fall down a fucking well." I shove him when all he does is give me some dopey ass look. "Walk."

* * *

I unzip one of my pockets and pull out the postcard Grey gave me. I trace my fingers over her handwriting. My plan is to use this kid as much as I can. Get a general idea of where the fuck I'm going and then be on my merry fucking way. As long as I can avoid the Whisperers, I'll be fine.

"We should have brought more food. Dammit!"

I shove the post card in my pocket, getting to my feet. "Will you keep it down, you fucking idiot? I'm not going to get through this without fucking killing you, am I? And that's how little motherfucking respect I have for you, kid. I'm asking that… out loud... right the fuck in front of you. Am I going to have to kill you?"

"N- no."

"Was a fucking rhetorical question, Brandon. Keep moving."

...

"Jesus fuck, why'd you stop?!"

"That must be it… The border they marked. With my mother's head…"

"Oh don't be such a crybaby. The fucking world ended. Everyone's mother is dead, you pussy. Besides… we're on our way to talk to the people who cut your mom's head off... have some motherfucking perspective." I yank him by the strap of his backpack. "Come on. We're burning daylight."

This kid, right here in the middle of fucksville, has a goddamn mental breakdown.

I seize the perfect opportunity. "Ah, shit, kid. I'm sorry. I can be pretty fucking insensitive sometimes. Especially if I really don't like you. Come here."

He snivels into my jacket. "Whisperers killed my mom… Rick killed my dad. I hate them all. I want them to kill each other. I want them all dead."

"That's the plan, kid. That's the plan." I lean in close to him, unsheathing my knife. "Or rather…" One quick stab to the chest to end it all. "That was your plan." I **fucking hate** cowardice people.

...

"Fuck you, sun! Don't grab a fucking sleeping bag or anything, Brandon. I'll be fine sleeping in the open, Brandon. So glad I stabbed you, you fucking shit ball." I look over my shoulder when I hear rustling. That ain't the undead. "Come out from wherever you're hiding, and let's look at each other so you can see my big fucking knife and I can see whatever you've got… so we can see how fucking interesting this is going to be." It ends up being several… people? The fuck? "Okay, you have knives, too. That's cool." Oh. These are those Whisperer fucks Rick said killed a fuckload of fucking people. "Wow. You guys are scary as fuck. If it were a little darker and I couldn't see your fucking people mouths through the skin masks, I'd never be able to tell you apart from the dead ones. Crazy." It's a little fucking unnerving actually. "How do you guys keep from accidentally stabbing each other? Or shit… do you guys just fucking push a dude in the bushes and say, 'Oh, he was already dead,' and move on? Be honest, that's happened at least once, right? Don't fucking fuck with me."

"You know what we are?"

"I have eyes… so fuck yes I know what you are. People wearing skin suits to mask themselves from the dead. Or is this like a fucking looney tunes thing and there's another zipper under the human skin and you're dogs inside? Are you guys like living Russian nesting dolls?"

"Why did you come here?"

"You say that like this burnt out street is something fucking special. I came 'here' to get to 'there.' Do I have any fucking clue what there is? Hell the fuck to the fuck no. I'm just trying to live in a world of the dead. This skin thing works? I could get into that."

" **You were not sent here**?"

Jesus. That voice. "Huh? Sent?" I've never looked up to anyone, but this motherfucker towers over me like I'm a goddamn joke. "Holy shit! You're a scary fuck, aren't you?! Jesus, shit. You're a mean looking fucker. What's your name, big guy?"

" **We don't have names. I am called Beta**."

"That's a fucking name. A stupid one… but it still counts."

" **You are not amusing. You are too loud. This is not a world for the loud anymore. You need to be silenced**."

"Is that a fucking threat?! I'm not a fucking idiot. I can fucking count and I count ten of you. The rest are undead fucks, and while I appreciate you holding those stupid fucks at bay, I'd bet my handsomest nut only two of you can actually fight. I'm not going to win a full-blown fight, especially with you Frowny Mctwoknives jumping in. But I'm goddamn motherfucking sure as fucking fuck that I'll kill at least three of you smelly piss bowls before you get me. Maybe I only get a good stab in a few of you-" I try to take in a deep breath, but I'm only able to after he removes his knife from my gut. "Fuc- y-" I drop to my knees, cradling my stomach. "Shit!" I wanted to have one of those bad ass stories. Like, 'Oh this motherfucker shoved his guts into his pocket and carried on his merry fucking way,' but the only thing I can do is lie there on the scorching pavement, bleeding out like some bitch complete with menstrual cramps. Didn't even get to say something cool before I- "Hnng-"

* * *

I groan, trying to lift my arm to push away the person disturbing my sleep. The room starts to fill with light. Oh, shit, fuck is this that light they're always talking about? I know I'm dead when I hear the sweetest voice.

"Wake up, you dumb cunt!" Her slate eyes well up with tears. When the tips of her fingers brush against my cheek, I know this is real.

"Grey," I choke, grabbing her by the nape and pulling her against me.


	12. Chapter 12

"I thought I'd never see… I thought you were… Grey…" I can't form words any more. I don't fucking deserve this. Watery eyes turn into a full blown pathetic fucking sob. Fuck, I can't explain her being in my arms.

"You haven't changed a bit," she smiles, rubbing my cheek.

I have, but… maybe I can learn how to go back? She looks so fucking good. Not frail and sickly like my last memory of her. "What happened? I- I thought you died?"

"I knew the only way you'd leave is if I were dead."

Maybe a couple of years ago, it really would have pissed me off because I fucking mourned this woman, but I see now just how selfless of an act it truly was. "My biggest regret was walking out of that room when you asked me to stay with you."

"I never should have asked that of you."

"You never should have asked because I should have been there for you." That's the constant in my life, never being there for the people that I care about. Well, that's gonna fucking change starting right fucking now, because if regret has taught me anything, it's that you don't get second chances like this.

"Your vitals are-"

"I love you, too."

She tugs the stethoscope from her ears.

"That day you said it to me in the car, I should have fucking told you how I felt then. I just think you should know that I do feel the same way, that this ain't some one sided bullshit."

Her eye spill with tears as she stands in disbelief.

"I don't get your tongue in my mouth or anything for that confession?"

"There's a part of me that feels guilty about accepting your love."

"Don't."

"I have something for you."

"Yeah?" I hope she's going to show me her tits.

"Nurse Grey, is it true?" An older woman asks.

"Yes," Grey smiles.

"Your wife is an amazing woman," the lady tells me before she hobbles from the infirmary.

"My wife?" I'm confused.

Grey slips Lucille's ring off her finger.

I didn't even notice it.

She sets the ring in my palm. "Here. I just wanted to keep it safe for you. You left it on her end table. When I arrived here, the others saw it and just assumed I had lost my husband. I'm sorry I went along with the lie."

"I can't believe you have her ring. Thank you, Grey." When everything fucking went to shit, I didn't even think that I'd miss something like this. This means a lot to me.

"Grey," a man calls, stepping into the infirmary. "So, I hear the scouts found your husband."

"Uh," Grey flushes. "No. He's actually-"

"That's right. I'm Negan; her husband." I hook the loop on Grey's pants and pull her closer. "She's mine."

"I'm Reid. Grey, if there's anything you need, let me know."

"Just some privacy, please, Sir."

He nods, shutting the door behind him.

"Negan, you don't have to go along with-"

I yank her to me, our teeth clinking together from the intensity of my mouth against hers. I'm not waiting any goddamn longer for her to come to her senses. If I could fuck this woman right now, I would, but the agony of just trying to be in a sitting position is way too much.

"Lie back down."

"You saved my life, Grey."

"You saved mine first."

"No, I'm not talking about with this stomach shit. I mean, I am, but I'm talking about in general. There is always going to be that part of me that misses the fuck out of Lucille, but you showed me that it's okay to care for someone like that again."

"The comment she made on the couch broke my heart. How you'd need someone to take care of you after she had passed."

"Well, I am a 40 year old boy."

She tangles her fingers with mine.

"You could start by feeding me lunch. I'm pretty fucking starved."

"I missed eating with you," she cries.

"Yeah? A nice meat lover's pizza with extra sauce?"

"We're gonna fuck so hard as soon as you get your strength back."

"Jesus Christ, woman, I need a change of pants."

"Well, let me help you get them off then."

What she should have said is, let me help you get off, because I fire one off like a shot gun right down her throat. It fucking hurt like a son of a bitch, too as every muscle tightens in pleasure. I lie my head back and catch my breath. "I've been fantasizing about blowing my load in that warm mouth since the day I saw you bent over the file cabinet in that tight little pencil skirt."

"I remember that day. Your gray baseball pants seemed a little tight in front."

"No shit? I think I'm blushing."

"Gray is a good color on you. **Every** part of you."

"Yeah, Grey on my dick is my favorite, too," I snicker.

* * *

Grey did all the disgusting things for me while I spent the next few weeks recovering. Things she shouldn't have had to do. "You're a goddamn good doctor."

"I'm a nurse."

"Doesn't matter, I'll pull on my pud to either title."

"Do you want help?"

I guess it was one of those rhetorical questions because mother fuck me. "I'm gonna need more fluids, nurse." That one wasn't as painful as they've been. Yeah, I know, poor me having to get my dick sucked every day.

"I want you to try and walk around some."

"No fucking way."

"Please."

"Why, you sick of me already? Trying to kick my ass out?"

"I need you to make it to my room. Some of the men here are a bit grabby. I'd feel safer knowing you'd be by my side at night."

"Who fucking touched you?" I sit up, already winded. "Get my boots."

"You need another week, at least."

"It ain't up for debate, Grey."

"I'm sorry. I never should have said anything."

"Wait a minute." I narrow my eyes. "You're lying to me."

"Please, drop it."

"Is **he** here, Grey?"

"No. I haven't seen him since before the outbreak, though I won't lie. He is always in the back of my mind. I worry that I'll wake up to him hovering over me."

"What else aren't you telling me?"

She flushes, looking over her shoulder before speaking. "Reid, our leader… sometimes I find things missing from the infirmary. I believe he's drugging some of our women and raping them. Maybe, because of my importance to the community, the men leave me alone, but I know that some of them have watched me in the shower, or even while I sleep. As soon as you're able, I want to leave this place. Won't your people be looking for you?"

Oh, fuck, that is not a conversation I want to have right now, on top of all the things going through my mind. "What if I kill Reid?"

"He's always surrounded by his men."

"He wasn't surrounded when he came in here to check on your husband," I smirk. "We can lure that motherfucker in here, and I'll slit his fucking throat. Wear his innards as a crown and make this place my own. That's right, King Dick Motherfucker."

The look on her face is horrifying.

Way to be subtle, Negan. "Look, Grey. I ain't the same man anymore. I've done unspeakable things, but I've always had a reason."

"I guess no one is the same anymore. It's all about survival."

"I will make this place safe for you, but it's not going to come without bloodshed. It's what I should have done with Blythe. I won't live in regret any longer, and you ain't living in fear ever again." I finally get to see her smile again.

"Maybe part of you getting on your feet is selfish."

"Yeah, I know you want my dick, woman, damn."

"You arrogant cunt," she laughs.

I try not to seem so damn pathetic walking back to her room. Puffing my chest out and all that tough guy bullshit when I pass by the other men. "Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit." I gently ease back on her bed, catching my breath. That sucked. Fuck, I'm winded from that walk, but at least I'll be by her side.

* * *

Every day is a constant struggle, but I haven't slept that well in years, and it was nice having someone that wanted to sleep by my side again. Not because they didn't want to earn points.

"Do you want to shower together?"

I don't care how long it takes me to shuffle to that bathroom, I'm not passing this shit up. I get this super boner strength or something, like when people lift cars and shit, because it's a little easier to move today. The things I do for pussy. My eyes trail up her delicate skin as she rids each piece of clothing. I'm anything but graceful like her and start flinging clothes all over the goddamn bathroom. The curtain rips when I pull it back, and it's just the first of many things I'm about to wreck. I lock my arms around her from behind, inching her closer.

She wiggles her ass against my cock, pressing her hands to the shower wall.

The only downside is I can't see her pert little titties from behind, but her ass is damn fucking nice. My hand comes down hard on it, claiming what's mine. Maybe a little too hard as her skin flushes. I slip my fingers between her legs, easing my middle one into her heat.

She throws her head back as a moan escapes her lips.

"Fuck that finger, Grey." I only think the advantage is mine because she provocatively sits back on it so goddamn agonizingly slow. Fuck me, I'm going to blow my load on the shower floor. My eyes widen at her excitement on my slick finger each time she arches upward. I pop my finger out, wiping her off on her rouge bottom lip, then lick it off. She nips my skin before I press my lips to hers. I can't take another minute of this fuckery, and I'm sure she's going to take matters into her own hands if I don't. "Fuck," I moan, when I run my sensitive head over her slick opening, barely pushing inside her.

She bucks her lips to accept my length, deepening the kiss.

My hands gravitate towards her tits, rolling her pink little peaks.

"Negan!"

Fuck. I claim her to the hilt, getting another reminder of what my name is. This is by far the most awkward position, but goddamn it feels so fucking good. "Call me Coach."

"Coach Negan!"

The nostalgic feeling of finally being able to fuck this woman is satisfying beyond words. I delve farther and harder inside her, my fingers torn on what part of her skin I want to touch. I'm going to pay for moving like this, but I don't care. I don't even mind the stinging frigid water. Or her sharp nails that have found their way into my thigh.

"I love your moans."

I put my lips to her ears.

"Yeah, louder. Fuck me harder!"

Goddamn, I love this woman! That accent? "Fucking shit!" I let out a harsh groan, exploding inside her. "Oh, fuck!"

It's no surprise she was all about me doing it, even encouraging it as she pushes back even harder against me to find her release.

Shit, I'm practically deaf in one ear now. "Fuck!" I give her a sharp swat on the ass, pulling out.

"Finally. I got tired of having to finger myself to you."

Did she just say what I think she… Oh, shit, I'm hard again. This woman is fucking perfect! I stoop on the bathtub ledge, catching my breath. "Why don't you clean those titties for me since I didn't get to see much of them?" The view of her bathing is pretty fucking nice. Takes my mind off the shredding pain in my abdomen. When she dips the soap between her legs, I lose my smug expression. "Want help cleaning there?"

"Yes. Definitely. I'm filthy."

"Of course you are. My dirty dick was inside you." From that moment on, if Grey and I were in the same room, we were fucking. Sometimes, even when we shouldn't have been, like the infirmary desk where anyone could walk in on us. She could barely wait for me to walk in the door at night. I think I fucked her most often against that door. Shit, I thought I was a horny fuck.

* * *

Over the next few months, all the problems Grey told me about started to surface. This community was in bad shape. When we'd go on runs, Reid was more concerned with looking for people, than feeding his own. No doubt to find women to add to their harem. It's fucking sickening, and I'm not going to wait around to find him or his men raping one of these women before I do something about it. The men are heavily armed, so I'd be stupid to attack them with nothing more than my knife. They aren't too smart, though. I have no patience for motherfuckers that use their guns on the undead. As long as these meat puppets don't ambush you, they're quite easy to subdue. I take out six just on my own. It impresses them, and I find myself quickly moving up in their ranks. At least, if I'm with them, I know they can't touch Grey.

...

The four men Grey spoke about are gathered outside the gates by the truck after dinner, including Reid. Seems I'm the topic of discussion tonight.

"He's a problem."

"Did you see how he kills the biters without a gun? One right after another like a fucking madman."

"Keep him happy, so he doesn't suspect anything."

"I say we kill him. There's no way you're going to get with Grey now."

"We can do it on our run tomorrow. Tell Grey that the biters got him."

"He's not going to go down that easily. That fucker is smart."

"If he's so smart, how come he's not with his group anymore? How come you found him bleeding out on the concrete? You should have fucking left him for dead! Your poor decision got us into this mess!"

"Keep your voice down, Reid."

Reid puts a bullet in his own man for speaking his mind.

Well… guess that's one less fuck I have to kill.

"Dispose of the body. I have business to attend to."

Yeah, motherfucker. You got business, alright. It's rather difficult for someone of my size to discretely hide themselves when you're following someone, but Reid is so concerned with looking for this one woman, I don't have to try very hard. Just like Grey told me she feared the men watched her in the shower, it's exactly what I find Reid doing. That girl is barely of age, which I fly right off the fucking handle. I snap his wrist as the syringe falls from his fingers.

"The-"

My hand wrap around his mouth so his screams don't frighten the girl and I drag him out into the alley. Even the seclusion couldn't mask the sounds of the meaty packing noise every time my fist struck him in the face, and I am far from fucking finished. "You wanna force yourself on women?"

His wide eyes watch in horror when I snatch my knife.

"And you wanna fucking take Grey from me?" I spit in his face and drive my knife right between his legs. His screams bring a sense of relief because even though I won't get my chance to kill Blythe, I take out my aggression on this abhorrent sackless piece of shit. I grab hold on his wrist and drag him through the streets. There's a certain tradition I'm going to start here to give it that feeling like I'm back at Sanctuary. I string him up against the gates to suffer before bleeding out. Even his most loyal adviser's won't dare fucking challenge me.

"He killed Reid," the other people in the group whisper.

"Anyone else wanna force themselves on any of the women here?"

His men cautiously set their weapons on the ground.

One of the other girls that was frequently drugged by these men takes it upon herself to shoot the remaining three of Reid's men.

They got off lucky because the show was just starting. Still, their corpses will make a nice addition to the wall.

* * *

These people quickly look to me for guidance. I instill the point system I had at Sanctuary, along with rules and punishments. It's strange to have that purpose again. To lead people like I had once before. The first winter damn near almost killed us, but by spring, we had livestock, crops, and a greenhouse. Grey said she often got bored, but I'll fucking take that knowing it means everyone is safe. This group had accomplished more in six months than the three years under Reid. I'm proud of these fuckers.

"Look familiar?" Grey stands at the foot of our bed in nothing but my Devil's jersey. "I've been saving it for a special occasion."

"It's a little big," I laugh. "Come sit on my face."

* * *

"Ransacked," I sigh. "Let's call it." I sheath my knife, starting for the exit. "What the-" I step back into the supermarket, cocking my head some. There's a row of those machines you put in change and it pops out some dumb ass toy. One of them has little rings in here shaped like food. I launch one of the cash registers into the machine, and the toys spill out on the floor. "Fuck yes," I smirk, popping the top on the plastic container and remove a little cheesecake ring. I swat the other containers out of the way, plucking out the one with the chocolate chip cookie in it.

"What the fuck happened in here?"

"Nothing, let's go." I pocket the rings and start for the truck.

...

"Do we still have that superglue?" It's passed up front to me. Grey is going to laugh her ass off when she sees this little cookie glued on this cheesecake ring. It's corny as fuck, but I don't give a shit. When we come to an unexpected stop, everything in my life turns upside down. It's like things couldn't wait to go to fucking shit, and claim someone else I love. I step down from the truck as my eyes widen. No! "Grey," I panic, running for the gates.

"Hey, Ned. Nice to see you again," Blythe smirks.

"Let her fucking go!"

"Or?" Blythe puts his revolver to her head.

"If you harm that woman, I will have nothing left to lose, and I will break every single bone in your worthless body."

"Good point." Blythe turns the gun on me, pulling the trigger.

I grit my teeth, as the round grazes the side of my neck.

Grey had shoved the gun out of the way just in time and saved my life. "Look at me," she starts, holding him by the cheeks. "We'll leave right now and it will just be the two of us. Like old times."

No goddamn way is he taking her from me. I know she's trying to calm him down, but I'll die before she walks out of my life again.

"Blythe," Grey whispers, reaching her hand out and slowly lowering his gun.

His eyes well up. "You swear?"

It's funny the effect a woman has on a man. Even though I knew Grey was lying out of her ass, he trusted her. And even though Blythe treated Grey like shit, he really did love her in some twisted way.

"I swear."

"Tell me you love me." Blythe shakes the gun at me. "I want him to hear you tell me you love me."

Even for the sake of acting, Grey can't bring herself to say it.

"Grey? You love me right?"

Her eyes burn with hatred.

"Fine! If I can't have you, no one will."

My screams overpower the gunshot echoing throughout the street.

Blood leaks down Grey's hands, dripping on the scorching pavement.

I tackle Blythe so forceful, I break his sternum doing it. "You're gonna regret not putting that bullet in me, cocksucker." I fire the rest of the rounds into his knee caps before flipping the gun and bludgeoning him with it. Blythe deserved to be tied and chained up like he did her. He deserved to be abused into submission like he did her, but I can't control the anger I have. The anger from losing Lucille. The anger from Grey's abuse. The anger from him taking coaching from me. The anger that Blythe somewhat parallels Prick Grimes. I'm so involved with my hatred for Blythe, I don't come to the realization that Grey is dying on the ground until the men are calling for her to wake up. What if her last memory of me is this monster driven by revenge, instead of my face telling her how much she fucking means to me and how sorry I am that I didn't protect her? "Grey!" I try and rid Blythe's blood off onto my pants so I don't taint her skin when I touch her cheeks. "Grey, please fucking answer me!"

"We don't have anyone here that can operate to get that bullet out. If we even attempt it, she'll die," one of the men tell me.

"She's going to die now!" I do the only thing I can think of. I scoop Grey up and run. The truck would just slow me down as I take a short cut through the woods. It's unsettling just how close our communities actually are after a brisk four miles. Maybe the more unsettling feeling is the last time I ran with someone in my arms to get aid, that person died. I kick the iron gate. "Help," I bellow, assaulting it again. "Open the goddamn gates, please!"

Rick stares back in disbelief.

"Please!" I inch Grey closer to the gate. I don't want to release her when they open it, but I have to trust that they will do everything they can to keep her alive.

Andrea fires a warning shot at my feet when I try to take a step inside the Safe-Zone.

I grit my teeth, and snap my head over my shoulder at Prick. "Andrea can empty that entire goddamn clip into me. **Nothing** is keeping me from seeing Grey one last time."

Rick holds a fist out at Andrea.

I chase after Grey.

Alexandria chases after me.

When I bust down the goddamn infirmary door, they're trying to stabilize Grey. I'm tackled to the floor by seven people.

Rick slings the handcuff around my wrist. "Lock him up."

"No!" I struggle to keep my feet planted as I slide across the wooden floor further out the door.

"She's losing too much blood."

"No, you have to save her! Please fucking save her!"

* * *

 **A/N Well, unfortunately, this story is coming to an end. The next chapter will be the final one. Thanks to everyone that's followed/favorited and left me a review!**


	13. Chapter 13

_No one's gonna take me alive. The time has come to make things right. You and I must fight for our rights. You and I must fight to survive. – Matt Bellamy_

* * *

I stand on my shit bucket trying to peer out the small window. The infirmary is across the street. As the door opens, the metal caves on the bucket and I fall on the ground. "No," I yell, dragging my bed over. The person that was coming out of the infirmary is making their way down the steps to my cell. Fuck. Is she okay? I won't spend the rest of my life rotting in jail knowing Grey died.

"So that's Grey."

"Carl…" Oh, god, no please. "Is she? Is she…"

"They don't think she'll make it."

"No." I drop to the floor, starting to hyperventilate.

"I gave her some blood, but she's lost a lot."

"You'd do that for Grey?"

"Why, because she's with you? That's the problem with you and my dad. We're all just people, Negan. People trying to survive against the roamers. Whatever, look, I gotta get out of here before someone sees me. I'll try to come back in a few hours."

"Carl, wait." I fish into my pocket and pull out the ring. "Will you give this to Grey?"

"It's really a cheesecake ring," he laughs.

"Please, hurry. Before she's gone. I want her to have that. I didn't get a chance before Blythe shot her."

"Blythe did this?!"

"Yeah," I stammer, hiding my face in my hands so he doesn't see me cry, and thankfully he doesn't stick around.

...

I'm so fucking scared to hear that door open because I fear the words that she didn't make it. I slowly bring my eyes to Carl.

"Her condition is worsening," he frowns. "I'm sorry."

"Did you give her the ring?" It's the only thing I can bring myself to say.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you should." He slips the ring back through the cell bars.

"You know the second I leave here they're going to kill me."

"I know, but I'll make you a deal."

"I'll do anything."

He pulls out Rick's hand cuffs. "You put these on and I'll take you to say goodbye to her. After you do, you leave the infirmary and I'm the one that kills you."

I spin around, putting my hands behind my back. "Hurry!"

"Are you sur-"

"Carl!" I won't lie, I'm pissing my panties. Yeah, I could easily subdue Carl, take his gun, and trade Carl for Grey, but that wouldn't solve anything. I'm not that man anymore. Once in the streets, I draw more attention than either of us expected. My moment with Grey will have to be shared with Alexandria. Seeing Grey that sickly color again turns my stomach.

She looks over at the shouting and flailing of guns pointed at me. "What did you do to these people?" Grey sobs, touching my cheek.

I lower my head, shaking it side to side. "I fucked up, Grey." I press my face to the crook of her neck. "I'm sorry."

"You dumb cunt," she cries, wrapping her arms tight around me.

"I know." I've fucking ruined everything. "I'm sorry." Listening to her cries fucking sucks because there's not a goddamn thing I can fucking do about it. I fear that every time she sucks in a breath it could be her last. "Are you in pain?"

"I don't want to talk about that."

I contemplate giving her the ring at all. Because when I go, I don't want her to feel like she's tied to me. I just want this woman, for once in her life, to be happy. To know she'll never cry again because of something someone else did to her. But, at the same time, I want her to know how much she fucking means to me, and making an honest woman out of her is the only way I can think to convey that. "I have something for you. In my pocket."

She's in disbelief at the ring.

"I'm sorry I can't put it on your finger."

"I didn't say I'd marry you," she laughs, but her face withers in pain. Grey eases it on her finger. "It even has a cookie on it."

"Yeah, I looked real motherfucking manly gluing that shit on."

"Arts and crafts? I'd pay to see that."

Here Grey is on the verge of dying and I know my fate, yet we're both laughing. I guess that's just the kind of people we are. That's what I love about this woman. She knows there's no goddamn hope, yet she's making the best of it. Like she always has. I should have never put her in that car with Karen. Just like I should have been a better man to Lucille. Maybe Lucille would have had the strength to fight the cancer. I feel like she gave up because of me since I was such a piece of shit. Is that what Grey is doing, too?

"Time," Rick interrupts.

"I love you, Negan."

"I'm sorry I failed you as a man, Grey. I let Lucille die, and now you, too."

"We'll see each other again."

"I love you so goddamn much, woman," I frown, setting my head against her chest. "Grey, promise me that you'll fight this, okay? That you'll fucking pull through. Don't fucking die, please!" I don't deserve to ask this of her. "Alright, I'm going," I choke, when the tip of Rick's gun is pressed to the back of my head.

He cocks the revolver.

What?! He's going to kill me right here? "No, I'm going! Don't do this in front of her."

"This is your doing, Negan."

"Negan," Grey cries, tightening her arms around me.

"No," Carl yells, lowering Rick's gun. "Negan and I had a deal. He dies outside."

"Let go, Carl!"

"You'd murder Negan in front of Grey?"

"Negan brought this on himself!" Rick isn't the only person in Alexandria to shout it. To demand my blood.

"Dad, I never agreed on you keeping him locked up, but I eventually saw your reasoning behind it. At least, I thought your reasoning behind it was to show him how the world could be without men like him. It turns out, you just kept him alive for you." Carl undoes my handcuffs.

"Carl," Andrea shouts.

"I won't allow this, Carl."

Carl steps protectively between me and Rick, stretching out his arms. "Negan could have killed you when he escaped the first time, but he didn't. Hell, he could have killed me when I took him from the cell just now."

"He's a threat!"

"If mom were dying, you would fight to be by her side, but Negan didn't. He didn't hurt anyone when they tried to pull him from the infirmary! He went back down to his cell thinking that was the last time he'd see Grey. Negan knew what coming back to Alexandria meant but he didn't care because if there was a slim chance he could save Grey, he was going to take it." Carl slugs Rick across the face and takes his gun. "I won't allow you to kill him because you're wrong if you think you're right in doing so. Negan's not that same man. That's the point of a correctional system. To change people for the better. Grey was shot because of a fucking psychopath, and all Negan is trying to do is protect her."

"Carl, he doesn't belong here," Andrea tries to persuade him.

"You're right, but he's here now and that's that. When Grey pulls through," Carl looks over his shoulder at me, "and she will." He turns his attention back to Rick. "Negan will leave."

"And what happens if she doesn't pull through and he goes on some killing spree like a fucking-"

"Fuck you," I bellow at Prick.

"If Grey dies, do you think he'd be able to go on without her? He didn't come to Alexandria for anything other than that woman. If you can't see that, than you'll never see it and I guess you don't have to. But you're not going to kill him, Dad. It's not right. It's not who we are."

Rick's eyes lock on mine.

The kid actually pulled it off. It's a hard fucking pill for Rick to swallow because it's not just his pride that's on the line. It's this personal vendetta against me. I ain't fucking apologizing to him, and he won't dare admit that Carl is right. So like the Prick he is, he gets in the last words before leaving with Andrea.

"When she's stable, leave, and don't ever come back or I **will** kill you, Negan."

It's just like Prick Grimes to ignore his own flesh and blood when it doesn't benefit his ego. Fucking pathetic sack of shit. It's actually rather fucking stupid because the real war is the meat puppets. It always has been, but what-the-fuck-ever. I have Grey. However long that might be.

...

I hold this woman and keep her comfortable. The doctor said if she can make it through the night, that there's a chance she'll be able to pull through. I'm so fucking scared as she sleeps against me. Just waiting for that final breath. Every sudden movement and every twitch turns my stomach.

* * *

She opens her eyes, looking up at me.

Thank fucking Christ. "How do you feel?"

"I'm hungry."

"Get the fuck out of here."

"Well, I'm nauseous, too."

I'm on my guard when the infirmary door opens, but it's Carl. "Thank you for what you did."

"I didn't do anything. It's what was right." He looks Grey over once. "I told you she'd pull through."

"Yeah. You're one smart motherfucker, kid."

"Did you kill Blythe?"

"I left him to turn."

"Good."

"I bet your dad is real fucking pissed at you, huh?"

"He said he was proud of me."

"You better run along then before he changes his mind." To think all this could have been much fucking different if I didn't tell him about Lucille.

 _You gonna tell me about Lucille today?_

 _So.. Lucille?_

 _Who was Lucille?_

This persistent fucking pain in my ass, dragging these painful memories out of me, ended up saving more than my life.

"Wait a second. You didn't really think you were getting out of here without being punished, did you?" Carl repeats my own words back to me.

"I don't understand, kid."

Carl starts to laugh. "I want to hear Grey say aluminum."

* * *

"She's stabilized, but she will have a long recovery."

I know this all too fucking well.

"Thank you." I shake the doctor's hand.

"They're both very lucky."

Huh? They're? The fuck is he talking about? I smirk down at Grey, raising my eyebrows up and down. "You hear that? You'll be back on your knees in no time."

The doctor clears his throat. "I would advise bed rest until the baby is born."

Grey and I don't speak for twenty minutes. Even ignoring the food in the room we're **that** speechless. "We're gonna have… I… fuck." I'm not going to sugar coat this. This is scary as fuck.

"Are you upset?"

"I don't know," I shrug. "How is it that I was once responsible for seventy-eight people, and leading almost forty now, yet the thought of one more life fucking terrifies me?"

"Because she'll be yours."

"What? You mean **he'll** be mine!" A boy would be better. I'd only have to worry about one dick then. If we have a girl, I'll have all these horny fucking fucks chasing after my daughter. Wow, my daughter…

Grey's fingers curl around mine.

"I'm sorry, I… this is just a lot to fucking take in really fucking fast."

"It's alright. You don't have to accept everything you're given right now. It's still too soon to even know if it's a boy or a girl."

"Lucille couldn't have children. We tried for a long time. Coaching was important to me because it filled some of that void of not having them."

"So you're not gonna sneak out in the middle of the night on me?"

"If we keep eating like this I'll be too fat to get out of the window."

"You **are** built like a brick shithouse."

"You know what they say. The bigger you are, the harder you fuck."

"How long until we can fuck again?"

"Like, uh. A while. You know, it's only right that I return the favor for all the times you let me blow my load. I'll suffer for you."

"Yeah, you should suffer."

* * *

I watch nervously as Grey stands in front of Blythe. She should be in bed, but she's talking with him. I can't hear what she's saying. I didn't expect her to show him mercy, but she drives a knife in his eye socket. If I had it my way, Blythe would be alive in a cellar and tortured for the rest of his worthless existence. Grey didn't see it like that. "Pull him off the wall, then burn the body," I instruct my men.

She returns back inside the gates.

"What did you say to him?"

"That I forgive him."

"What?! Why the fuck would you do that?"

"Because of the boy in Alexandria that saved your life and gave you a second chance. Even though Blythe was a monster, he gave me a second chance when he saved me from my father. Forgiveness is everything now."

I don't fucking understand it, but I guess it's really not my place to. "Come here." I hoist her up in my arms. "You need to get back to bed." There isn't a shred of me that would forgive Blythe for what he fucking did to Grey, but in some strange way it helped me understand why Rick was adamant about not wanting to forgive me. He'd do anything for the people he loved to keep them safe. Just like I'd do anything for mine.

* * *

 _Four years later._

* * *

"You're dead, Daddy."

I open my eyes and wipe the slobber from my neck. "Ahhhh," I groan, pulling her in my arms.

She starts to giggle as I tickle her sides. "No," she laughs, "the undead don't tickle."

"If I'm dead so are you, dummy! Where's your mother at?"

"She's making us food."

"Fuck yes!"

"That's what I said, and then she said I am definitely my father's child."

"You most certainly fucking are, but that swearing shit is our secret."

"Alright," she pouts.

I laugh because it's the same face I give when I'm fucking pouting. "Lay with me for a few minutes."

She curls up on my chest.

I run my fingers through her long red hair that she refuses to let anyone cut.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, Lucille."

* * *

 **A/N Thank you for making it this far! I hope you all enjoyed it. Let me know what you think! With the close of this fic, means the start of a new one because I'm a glutton for punishment! It's called 'Beautiful Tragedy'. You can find it on my profile. Thanks again for all the support! - 217**


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